The Alternate Universe
by gabbicav
Summary: There are many alternate universes. One little change at the right time to the Doomsday finale, and Rose Tyler is still with the Doctor. This story looks at how Series Three of Doctor Who might have looked if Jackie, not Pete, had gone back...
1. Prologue: Doomsday AU

_Hello! This is my first Doctor Who Fanfic, I hope you enjoy it!  
_

_I'd like to make it clear now that I don't dislike Martha. I think she brings an interesting dynamic to Doctor Who, and she will be turning up in later chapters. This story specifically is here to see how the Third series might have gone if Rose was still around, that's all.  
It was inspired by "The Shakespeare Code", and the Doctor's; "Rose would know what to say..." comment.  
_

_**Disclaimer: **All the usuals; own nothing, not intended to cause infringement or offense to anyone...  
_

* * *

_We begin with what could have been the end: Earth's Doomsday. It marked the end of Torchwood, and the end of the Tylers, as the world had known them._

He'd tricked her again. There she'd been, explaining to her mum that she was never leaving the Doctor, and he'd slipped that ruddy yellow button around her neck.

Suddenly, Rose found herself in the Pete's world's Torchwood; sterile, empty, a metallic, disused tang in the air. The vague hum of distant zeppelins.

Rose wasn't going to let him try that old trick again.  
It hadn't worked on Satellite 5, sending her to her mum. And it wouldn't work now. He was her home.  
She pressed the button, and returned to her own world.

"I think this is the 'on' switch..." Rose breathed nonchalantly.

The Doctor startled at the sudden appearance. Then he charged for her grabbing Rose roughly by the shoulders, roaring at her, his eyes flashing.

"Once the breach collapses, that's _it. _You will never be able to see her again. Your own mother!"

"I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never gonna leave you."

* * *

The Void had pulled hungrily at Rose, trying to make her lose her grip, and release herself into its depths; possessive. She was stronger than they gave her credit for.  
For a while, at least. 

The process of losing her grip was a long one; first one hand, then after a struggle, the other.

Rose could see the Doctor. His face was a mask of terror; he was so powerful, so clever, but at this moment, all for naught. She could see, feel, his desperate yearn to save her.

"ROSE!" he screamed in anguish.

Rose's hair whipped her face; the trip to Hell was taking a long time. She could do nothing but scream.

When the distance between the Doctor and the Void was halved by Rose, there was another sound; the sound of a universe opening and closing a hole, barely audible over the wrenching of the ravenous void.

Thud! "Oof!"

A startled, desperate cry; "Rose!"

Rose's path was blocked by a body, for a moment. It was time enough. She turned, reaching for whoever it was, as they slipped through her fingers. Rose was left with a blue denim jacket in her hands, as the void closed over Jackie Tyler's shocked eyes. The wind died. The void was silent.

"MUM!" Rose screamed as the gateway to the void crumbled and closed.

She rushed forward. Called to the featureless white wall.

"MUM!" Rose "No! Mum!"

The Doctor was beside her, she realised, as he lay a palm on the wall where the centre of the void had just been. Rose, tears beginning to pool dangerously over the eyeliner, sniffed and clenched her tears back as she turned quickly to him.

"Rose," he was so serious, so sad, before she could find any words. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The answer to the question she hadn't asked. There was nothing he could do. She nodded. The tears spilled down her face as Rose turned, in grief, slamming her fists against the wall.

"Bring her back!"

The Doctor eyes were on the wall; he stared at nothing. Simple, monotone, "I can't."

Rose sobbed, her hands pressed to the last place she'd seen her mother's terrified eyes as the void had claimed her. "No…" she rested her forehead on the wall, closing her eyes. The blackened tearstains streaking her cheeks left marks on the stark whiteness.

The Doctor waited for her, silent. Waited while Rose Tyler grieved her mother's sacrifice. Had Jackie known the void was still open? Or had she simply followed her daughter to her ultimate end? And where was she now – hell? How could this have-

"It's all my fault,"Rose realised to herself aloud, the tears renewing their zeal.

She turned to the Doctor. Crumbled into his hug, her arms clenched desperately together around the blue denim jacket. His embrace enclosed her completely.

The Doctor patted her back gently, spoke carefully. "It's not your fault."

"She only came back for me," Rose blubbed.

Rose felt, rather than heard, the Doctor sigh, and renew his hug on her.

Weren't _they_ supposed to be the "stuff of legends"? Not her mum?

* * *

When Rose had calmed down, she had asked to go back to the TARDIS. She'd felt him questing that she make eye contact, but couldn't tear her eyes from her hands, and the jacket still held between them. 

She immediately sat in the seat by the controls, feel squarely on the floor of the TARDIS, the jacket on her lap. The Doctor didn't speak; part of Rose wished he would. He eyed her, his face a mixture of grief, concern and wary, as he moved away from Rose and toward the console.

He'd always had an answer for everything they'd ever encountered, Rose thought, a little blankly. It seemed wrong that he was so empty of a solution now. But his simple, monotonous "I can't", back at Torchwood, had been serious. That's why she didn't ask again. He would not give her false hope, when there was none.

What would have happened if she'd fallen through the Void, Rose wondered? What was happening to mum now?

Rose closed her eyes as the thoughts sank in, and listened to the hums of the parked TARDIS, hearing the Doctor's nearby tapping, adjusting and buzzy sonic-ing.

With her eyes closed, she was victim to those final, desperate, agonising minutes all over again. This wouldn't do.

"Doctor?" Rose cleared her throat.

He looked from whatever he was doing on the console, to Rose. He was still so, so sad, which surprised Rose a little, on the level that she was still operating and sensing the world around her. Rose wished he would smile and tell her it would be okay, then took the thought back. No, that wouldn't do either.

"Please," she started shakily. "Take me away from here. Or give me somethin' to do," Rose sniffed, wiping her eyes. She laughed, absurdly. "I'm goin' to go mad in all this quiet!"

The Doctor remained by the console. "Where would you like to go?"

"I don' care," Rose laughed helplessly, the desperation leaking through her tone.

The Doctor pursed his lips, but flipped a couple of switches and started up the dematerialisation sequence. Rose focussed on the sound, telling herself again and again that she was not abandoning her mother to hell. She stood and tried to occupy her mind with the flashing icons on the console display. Trying to convince herself that she knew, after all these years, what they meant.

Time passed quickly, ironically enough since they were in a time machine. The TARDIS quietened. There was a hand on Rose's shoulder.

"We're here."

She blinked and turned her head a little, refocusing on the Doctor. He'd put his glasses on, for some reason.

"Where?"

The Doctor tried a smile, but Rose noticed his eyes weren't smiling at all. "Somewhere I'd promised to take you a long time ago. Funny that the time never seemed right before. Barcelona."

* * *

Aside the moments of forgetting, there was a lot of grief. How does one come to terms with what had happened to Jackie Tyler? So Rose could live, she had…well, died? Or something worse? Rose didn't know. 

The Doctor was real. He didn't demand answers, or make Rose sit and explain her feelings to him. He was there. He took her to planets full of art and beauty. Incidentally, most of these planets had some funny, furry animal species. He'd hold her hand. Put his arm around her. He didn't have to.

But he was there, which is what Rose needed most. What she did know of his people, and the Time War…she had guessed he was relating that to her own loss. The feelings he'd had, when all his people had died. There's grief, loneliness. All sorts of damaging self-inflicted emotions, that could have sent Rose spiralling if it had not been for his presence, and distractions. He was no stranger to grief, and Rose didn't try to pretend she was the only person who had ever lost someone.

They had just returned to the TARDIS from a stroll around Cygnus (home to hundreds of fluffy butterflies the size of humans. They were actually quite scary, but Rose guessed the Doctor had thought she'd find them cute. Definite Hagrid complex there).

Rose had sat down, put her feet on the console. The Doctor had returned to the main display. Stared at it for a while.

"Hmm," he hmmed. Again, stared at the screen. Glanced at Rose briefly, then back at the screen.

"What is it?" Rose asked eventually.

"A gap," he kept his eyes on the screen, almost deliberately not looking back at her now. Rose sat up straighter, feet on the floor.

"Gap of what?"

"A gap, in the Universe, just about to close," as though this explained everything.

Rose stared at him and waited. "…meanin'?"

He laughed softly.

"A gap leading to Pete's world. We could talk to them, if you wanted to. Mickey and Pete, I mean. And Jake. The alternate Harriet Jones, for that matter, if you felt the urge."

Rose continued to stare at him. "What about…" she stopped, already knowing the answer.

After a moment's pause. "Do you want me to chase it?"

"The gap?"

He nodded, "Last of it's kind. You won't get another chance."

What would be the point, Rose thought? They would see a Pete who wasn't Rose's father, and darling Mickey who she'd already said goodbye to months ago, when he'd first decided to stay on Alternate Earth. The only person that could have tied Rose to Pete's world...wasn't there now either.

Rose forced a half-smile, "What else ya got?"

The Doctor paused just for a moment, and recovered, sucking in a breath and turning back to his monitor. "Oh, let's see. There's Florana, I haven't taken you there yet? Why haven't I taken you there?" almost scolding himself.

Rose shook off the feeling of gloom and tried a proper smile. "As long as there's no more gigantic fluffy butterflies."

"Nooo," the Doctor pepped up a little, winking at her. "There's lots of flowers, though, if you hadn't guessed from the name."

"Right, no fluffy bees or pollinatin' rituals either, mister," Rose pointed a finger, smirking.

The Doctor grinned and flipped a switch.

They were off.

And the last, small gap in the universe closed forever, unnoticed.

Rose leaned on the console, watching the Doctor at work, again. She didn't know what he was up to, but she was sure it was important. Or he was just trying to look important. She smiled at him.

Suddenly, the Doctor looked up from the monitor, toward the doorway. Eyes wide in shock.

Rose's heart leaped into her mouth. "What is it?" she asked quickly.

The Doctor didn't answer Rose; still staring at the door.

"What?"

She turned and looked. Standing by the door, back to them, was somehow, absurdly, someone in a bride costume.

"Hello?" Rose called. Made a move to dash toward her. The Doctor grabbed Rose's wrist, held her in place, a grip both restrictive and reassuring. She flashed him a questioning glance; he was tight-lipped, eyes wide. Rose could practically hear the cogs of his brain ticking over, trying to figure out how someone could have entered his TARDIS without being invited.

The bride turned – she was older, older than Rose, with a shock of red hair. She yelped at them. Rose jumped.

"Who are you?" the bride demanded.

"But-" the Doctor started, and was cut off.

"Where am I?" she continued, angrier.

Rose gripped the Doctor's hand, harder, spoke through the corner of her mouth. "Doctor, what's going on?"

"What?" the Doctor turned to Rose, as though he'd forgotten she was there.

"What the hell is this place?" the bride threw her hands up.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	2. The Runaway Bride AU

_The Runaway Bride AU_

_Thanks for the review, HarryWhoFanatic! You made my day!_

* * *

_Standing by the door, back to them, was somehow, absurdly, someone in a bride costume. _

"_Hello?" Rose called. Made a move to dash toward her. The Doctor grabbed Rose's wrist, held her in place, a grip both restrictive and reassuring. She flashed him a questioning glance; he was tight-lipped, eyes wide. Rose could practically hear the cogs of his brain ticking over, trying to figure out how someone could have entered his TARDIS without being invited. _

_The bride turned – she was older, older than Rose, with a shock of red hair. She yelped at them. Rose jumped._

"_Who are you?" the bride demanded. _

"_But-" the Doctor started, and was cut off. _

"_Where am I?" she continued, angrier. _

_Rose gripped the Doctor's hand, harder, spoke through the corner of her mouth. "Doctor, what's going on?" _

"_What?" the Doctor turned to Rose, as though he'd forgotten she was there. _

"_What the hell is this place?" the bride threw her hands up._

* * *

Who did she think she was? Entering the TARDIS and then demanding questions of them? Rose drew her courage and let go of the Doctor's hand. 

"I'm Rose," she said, making sure her voice didn't shake. "An' this is the Doctor. Who are you?" she flashed a glance at the Doctor, sent a message with her eyes that conveyed _stop me if she looks like she's about to attack_.

The Doctor wasn't looking at Rose; his eyebrows were drawing closer and closer together by the second.

"You can't do that, I wasn't..." he waved at the controls, as though they explained everything. "We're in flight! That's—that's physically impossible! How did--??"

The bride looked from the Doctor, to Rose, and back to the Doctor, pursing her lips and putting her hands on her hips. "Tell me where I am. I demand you tell me _right _now --!"

"All righ' already, you answer our questions we'll answer yours," Rose chimed in.

"I'm not going to be kidnapped…and, and-" the bride shook her head.

"We haven't kidnapped you!" Rose started to fume.

"--and ordered about by some little peroxide-doused Chav and a, a-" she continued.

"Oi, enough already!" Rose looked to the Doctor. _Anytime you'd like to take control here…_

"You're in the TARDIS," the Doctor called out over the bride's tirade.

She stopped short. "The what?"

"The TARDIS," the Doctor repeated, more calmly.

"The _what_?" the bride's face was incredulous.

"The TARDIS!" Rose repeated this time, raising her eyebrows.

"That's not even a proper word. You're just saying things," the bride threw her hands up.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," Rose rolled her eyes and moved to the seat by the console, sitting and putting up her feet.

"How did you get in here?" the Doctor was direct, locking the bride's gaze.

The bride was furious. "Well, _obviously, _when you kidnapped me. Who was it? Is it Nerys? Oh, my _God, _she's finally got me back," the bride looked somewhat relieved to have figured it out all on her own. "This has got _Nerys _written all over it."

"Who the hell is Nerys?" Rose asked the Doctor.

"Your best friend," the bride fired petulantly, crossing her arms at Rose.

Rose looked to the TARDIS roof and laughed. "Oh, she's funny, Doctor. Can we keep her?"

The Doctor walked around the console. Rose noticed his smile was very forced.

"There's no harm done, just a bit of a mix up. Meant to be at a stag night in Brussels kidnapping a groom, not a bride from, from-" he waved his hand about. "Wherever you're from."

"London," the bride sniffed, her arms still crossed.

Rose tensed slightly, unwittingly. She noticed the Doctor glance her way a moment. The bride continued.

"I've been waiting all my life for this. And then you lot - I dunno, you _drugged _me or something!"

"We haven't _done_ anything," Rose raised her eyebrows at the bride. "An' were you listenin'? We'll take you back. Be glad to get rid of you."

"That's right, nothing we can't fix in a jiffy," the Doctor flicked a switch. "London, you say?"

"Well!" the bride huffed, offended. Rose thought she even stomped her foot, like a three year old having a tantrum. "I can assure you, I can find my own way home," she spoke superiorly, charging for the door.

"No, wait a minute!" the Doctor called.

The bride had flung open the TARDIS door. Rose watched, amused, from her seat as the snotty woman took a couple of steps backwards, gasping.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Rose called out. She could just see the side of a planet, from where she was seated.

The bride's name was Donna. After the initial shocks; yes, she was in outer space; yes, the Doctor was an alien; No, Rose wasn't, she was human; they had headed back for the last place in the world Rose had ever wanted to return to, as much as she'd known she'd have to one day.  
Saint Mary's, Chiswick. London. England. Earth. The Solar System.

Donna had been seated in the chair Rose had previously occupied. Rose was staring at the monitor again, sitting on the side of the console.

London. It'd be her first time back, since Torchwood.

The Doctor was busy beside her, or acting busy again to avoid talking to the fiery red-head the TARDIS had decided to pick up for some reason. Rose noticed him, looking sideways at her, a few times.

"You all right?" he asked eventually, looking back at the console, displaying concern through his voice, rather than actions.

"Mmm," Rose closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. "Jus'…tired."

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Still coming to Florana with me?"

Rose looked up and forced a smile, sticking some stray blonde hair behind her ears. "'Course. Wouldn' miss it."

* * *

Before long, they were (unsuccessfully) trying to hail a cab. The TARDIS had landed them in London, but not the church. No one would pick them up; they looked rather odd, the three of them on the sidewalk, one dressed up like a ball of white fairy floss and acting like a rabid fox, after all.  
Donna was still charging about in a rage, directing her screaming at cab drivers. 

A sign caught Rose's eye as they waited. _Henricks_.

"Oh my god," Rose stared, a feeling of both warmth and dread at the memories resurfacing. Before she could react further, she began to notice the copious amounts of tinsel, faux snow, and red and green decorations.

"What is wrong with you people?" Donna called out before swearing fiercely.

"Doctor," Rose called over her shoulder, still looking at the signs. "It's Christmas."

The Doctor called out. "Again? Already?"

"Yeap." Rose signed, turning back to him. "Why you gettin' married on Christmas, Donna?"

"It's Christmas Eve," she called out irritably.

A final glance back at Henricks, a shudder, and Rose rejoined the pair on the curb. "Why you gettin' married Christmas eve, then?"

"Why not?" she smirked. "I can't stand Christmas. Honeymoon's in Morocco. Sunshine – lovely," Donna gave Rose the first genuine smile she'd ever seen the red-head offer.

Rose smiled back, a little unsure. Nevertheless, she pulled her mobile out of her pocket.

"Why don't you jus' call 'em? Tell 'em you're runnin' late?"

Donna, eyes wide, snatched the mobile from Rose's hands. Smile gone.

"You're telling me you've had this the _whole_ time and didn't feel like _mentioning it earlier_?" Donna cried.

The Doctor frowned, standing beside Rose.

"You're welcome," Rose raised her eyebrows and gave the Doctor a look.

The Doctor smiled a smile that spoke a simple message; _patience_.

"Happy Christmas then, Rose Tyler," he stuck his hands in his coat pockets.

Rose smiled a little, nodded behind her. "Remember this place?"

The Doctor turned fully, a wide grin expanding on his face. "Oh, it's Henricks! Didn't think I'd see this place back up and running for years!"

"Where we firs' met," Rose also stuck her hands in her pockets, grinning up at the Doctor cheekily. "Where it all began," she reminisced jokingly.

The Doctor laughed, started to reply, and --

Behind them, tyres screeched. They both wheeled around, to see Donna, in a cab, her head out the window. "See you in court you loonies!"

"Oh NO! Donna!" The Doctor ran after the quickly retreating cab.

"She's stolen my mobile!" Rose pointed, agog. Then ran after the Doctor. She stopped short.

To the right of Henricks, Rose noticed something she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before.

Santas. Four of them, playing brass instruments. Wearing oddly familiar masks, the kind of masks that could give you nightmares.

"It…can't be," she said under her breath, doubtingly, head slightly on one side.

The Santa with the tuba stopped playing and lowered it.

Rose's eyes widened. "Doctor!" she called urgently, running.

The Doctor had stopped, someway down the sidewalk, and was leaning, with his hands on his legs, watching the cab through squinted eyes. Rose hurried to his side, skidding to a halt and grabbing his coat in one movement that near sent the both of them toppling over.

"She's gone," the Doctor panted, grabbing a hold of Rose's arms to keep her upright.

"We've got bigger problems," Rose steadied herself, and turned the Doctor around to face the Santas. They were further away now, with a crowd of people walking hurriedly between them, but there was no mistaking the-

"Pilot fish?" the Doctor asked nobody, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern, still squinting, but upright now.

"Did we land in last year's Christmas special?" Rose asked him dryly, not taking her eyes off the Santas. The one with the tuba had raised it again, and was playing.

The Doctor shook his head, his lips a straight line.

"We have to catch up with Donna," he announced, heading in the direction of the TARDIS.

Rose laughed a little, in disbelief, following the Doctor. When he didn't elaborate, she realised he was serious. "Why?"

"Well," he sighed, "if they're after us, which, they most probably are given our track record, they'll be able to find your mobile. Which she has - putting herself, her husband to be, their families and the attending clergy of Saint Mary's at risk…but still," he scratched the back of his head, stopping in the middle of the packed walkway. People bustled around him. "I don't know," the Doctor grimaced. "There's something else. _Why_ did the TARDIS pick her up...unless…" he stopped talking, and started running.

Rose ran to keep up with him. "What is it? She got somethin' to do with pilot fish?"

"Remember Rose," he called behind him. "It's what comes after the pilot fish we should worry about."

Rose thought about this for a moment, "Donna?"

The Doctor laughed, turned, and grinned at Rose as he reached the TARDIS door, flinging it open. "Let's find out!"

Rose smirked, and let him hold the TARDIS door open for her. He dashed in after her and started leaping around the console, flicking switches.

"You're enjoying this a _little_ too much, Doctor," Rose stepped up beside him.

He handed Rose a rubber mallet. "So are you," he winked.

* * *

He flew the TARDIS straight down the motorway. Rose wished that she could have seen the looks of the people's faces as a spinning blue box had overtaken them. The Doctor, while manically happy, just about to the point of delirium, was also on a mission. He barked commands to Rose, _hold this, hit that, turn this, don't touch it, it's hot._

After a moment, the Doctor pointed at a handle, dashing to the door.

"When I give you the signal, pull that down," he flung open the door.

Rose readied herself, straining on her toes to see over the console and out the door. She could barely see the black roof of what looked like a taxi.

"…Rose," the Doctor sounded urgent, even when trying not to. "You'll never guess who Donna's driver is," dryly.

Rose strained on her tip-toes and could see Donna's open-mouthed gape. Behind that was a flash of a red hood.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Rose wondered. Another pilot fish? Why'd they want her?

"Open the door!" the Doctor was yelling now, in the direction of the cab.

You would think it was a simple enough request. But Rose was amazed that the blasted red-head managed to have an argument with her rescuers. Rose rolled her eyes, hand on the controls, and watched the Doctor for whatever 'the signal' was going to be.

Rose was wondering how much longer Donna was going to argue and who on earth was steering the TARDIS (because it certainly wasn't either of them), when the Doctor was toppled over by a gigantic fluffy marshmallow with red hair. The TARDIS doors closed and the Doctor called out, "Now, Rose!"

Rose pulled the lever down, assuming the TARDIS would know what to do with it, and ran to the Doctor, heaving Donna off him.

"Thank you," Donna put her hair behind her ears, dusting herself off, as though thanking a servant.

Rose gave the Doctor another look. He'd gotten to his feet already, and was staring one eyebrow raised, at the console. Rose did a double-take; there was smoke coming from the controls Rose had been standing near. The Doctor was there in two bounds, grabbing the fire extinguisher and spraying.

"What happened?" Rose dashed to the console, looking for something to put the fire out with. She noticed an old shirt of hers, hanging over the railing near the seat, and grabbed it, muffling the small fires like it was a fire blanket.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Donna pointed from her spot near the doorway.

The Doctor sprayed the extinguisher a few more times then put it down, waving his hands to clear the smoke.

"No harm done, but we have to land, now," he spoke quickly, tweaked a couple of switches. The TARDIS' engine winded down.

Rose looked for a place to put her old, now ruined purple shirt, couldn't find one, and put it behind her back, looking up at the Doctor warily. Was she going to get into trouble? Had she started the fire?

The Doctor sighed, both hands on the console, then turned to Rose, pointing a finger. "That's the last time I put you in the driver's seat, Miss Tyler."

Rose opened her mouth to say something, and noticed the Doctor's eyes were sparkling. She closed her mouth with a snap. Raised her eyebrows and waited.

He lowered his finger and laughed a little, "Oh all right, it would have done that anyway. You know," he looked up at the centre console, "for a spaceship, she doesn't really do that much flying. Now," he turned back to the doors, "A couple of minutes, and we'll take –-" he paused. "Where's she gone now?"

Rose turned to the doors, noticed them open, and threw her hands up as the Doctor dashed past.

"Why not?" she hurried after him.

Donna was standing just outside the TARDIS door. They'd landed on a rooftop; she was overlooking London, tears in her eyes, as the sun sank.

"Doesn't matter now," she sniffed and tried to laugh as she noticed the Doctor join her on one side, Rose on her other.

"Did we miss it?" the Doctor asked carefully.

Donna nodded, then started to cry.

Rose's instincts kicked in and she pulled Donna towards her in a hug.

"'s all righ', Donna. You can jus' book another date."

Donna sobbed a little.

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable.

"Still got the honeymoon..." he reminded her brightly.

Donna sobbing got louder. Rose patted her back and gave the Doctor a concerned look.

"Yeah... yeah... sorry," he looked out at the skyline.

They stood there in silence, a moment, and Donna's sobs turned into the occasional sniff. She pulled back from Rose. Rose, despite her initial dislike of the woman, couldn't help feel sorry for her. And responsible.

"I just wish…" Donna sniffed. "I wish we had a time machine. Then we could go back and get it right."

The Doctor shot Rose a look now, and Rose pursed her lips, trying not to laugh.

"...Yeah, yeah. But... even if I did, I couldn't go back on someone's personal timeline. Apparently," he announced. He held up his hands behind Donna's back and made a cutting sign, mouthing _don't say anything we __**can't do it**_!

Rose nodded, and joined Donna at the edge of the rooftop. "Any idea why one of those Santa things were after you?" she tried to sound nonchalant.

Donna huffed. "This is all normal for you, I expect. What were they all about?"

"Dunno," Rose shrugged. "Had a run in with 'em last year, too."

"They're robotic scavengers," the Doctor supplied, putting his coat over Donna's bare shoulders. "They're trying to blend in. Question is," he continued knowingly, "what do camouflaged robot mercenaries want with you? And how did you get inside the TARDIS? I don't know..."

Donna shrugged, rubbing her nose, "Oh, I had this great big reception all planned. Everyone's going to be heartbroken."

Rose shrugged. "We can still make tha'."

Donna barked a laugh. "The reception?"

Rose nodded. "Why not? You paid for it, didn' ya?"

"The reception for the _wedding I just missed_?" Donna stared at Rose, punctuating each word.

"I'm sure once you explain everything to him, your partner-" the Doctor started lightly.

"His name's Lance," Donna interjected hurriedly.

"Lance, then," Rose continued. "Explain to Lance what happened, an' then you and 'im will be fine. You deserve a party after the day you've had!" Rose punched her lightly on the arm, trying to be friendly.

Donna was quiet for a little while, then held her head up, smiling lightly, and flounced back towards the TARDIS.

"And so do we," the Doctor said through the corner of his mouth to Rose as they followed her.

* * *

Donna's friends and relatives hadn't been all that worried about her, in the end. They'd turned up to the reception; Donna had turned on the waterworks, done no explaining whatsoever, and left the Doctor and Rose to themselves in the bedecked hall as she'd gone off with a well dressed fellow (who Rose assumed was Lance). 

The Doctor and Rose were now at the bar, blending in. The Doctor was watching, listening, as Rose struck up conversation with a couple of well dressed men wearing elaborate buttonholes, who introduced themselves by ordering a round (on the bar tab, of course) and announcing pompously that they were 'the best and second-best men', while belching.

"I'll have to take your word for it, then," Rose had smirked, sipping something pink from a tall glass.

The Doctor (also sipping a pink drink) wound the conversation with the groomsmen around to Donna; _how long have you two known her_; _oh, so you're friend with Lance_; _ah, what do they do again_?

Rose sipped her cocktail and watched the Doctor over the top of her glass, thinking; _it's still bugging him_. They hadn't seen the Santas since Donna's leap from the cab, and he'd been quietly mulling over the mystery behind that the whole time.

The best man was waffling on about the ever so important role he held at this security ID place when, obviously trying to impress, dropped a name Rose had never wanted to hear in conversation again; Torchwood.

"What?" Rose, who'd given up on the conversation and had been watching the Doctor, speculating, snapped to attention.

"They own us, don't they? 'm good friends with the pollie running the whole joint, you know, Saxon?"

Rose stared at the best man a moment, feeling a little cold all of a sudden "You mean _The_ Torch—" she started.

"So, you have to tell us, what happened at the church today?" The Doctor cut in urgently, placing his hand discretely on the small of Rose's back; again, reassurance. "She just…" he nodded, prompting the 'best men' to continue.

The 2nd-best man grinned. "We got it all on camera, you gotta see - Oi, Roland!" he bellowed. A man holding a camera nodded toward them.

"Reckon we should sell it to someone, don't know how she did it, must have cost her a fortune, a trick like that."

"A trick like what?" Rose had to bite.

"Disappearing," the best man waved his hands in front of Rose's face, in a supposedly spooky manner that came off a little more deranged than anything. "'ere, Roland'll show you."

What Roland had shown the Doctor had certainly gotten him excited. He'd ordered four more drinks, left all four with Roland and the best men, grabbed Rose's hand and dragged her to the dance floor. She'd had only enough time to land her empty cocktail glass on the bar.

"If you wanted a dance, you jus' have to ask, not rip my arm off!" she hurried after him.

The Doctor stopped them in the middle of the dance floor, hands on Rose's shoulders.

"It's Huon energy!"

"Huh?"

"That's why they're after her," he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "I don't know how, it's impossible, it's…" he grasped for a word, "ancient!"

"Is it bad?" Rose asked, looking around for Donna. "Is she radioactive, or somethin'…?"

"No no no no no, it's more…the stuff the universes were made out of," he said very quickly, his eyes roaming the room. Without another word, he rushed for the window.

"What?" Rose called after him.

Before she could push her way through the dancing crowd and join him, the Doctor had turned back. Was calling to her.

Rose strained her ears.

"Get Donna! They've found us!" he called.

Right, Rose thought. No question about who 'they' were. Who else shows up on Christmas eve?

She pushed her way to Donna, and held her arm.

"C'mon luv, we gotta go!"

"Excuse me?" Donna seemed a lot happier than before.

"Where you gotta go?" Lance asked, looking between the pair.

"Listen to me," Rose turned her around. "The pilot fish – y'know, the robot Santas? They've found you. We have to go."

The Doctor had reached them.

"No time to chit-chat girls, c'mon!" he grabbed Donna by the arm and dashed toward the back door.

Rose hurried after them, Lance by her side.

"What's goi-?"

"Don't ask," Rose huffed. The Doctor and Donna were suddenly back in front of them.

"Can't get out that way," he called, dashing past.

Rose turned to follow them, feeling a bit dizzy, and ran into Lance. She grabbed his arms. "C'mon!"

The Doctor and Donna had stopped, Donna huffing, looking from window to window, the Doctor staring in front of them. Rose followed his gaze to a large, green, well decorated…

"Oh you have _got_ to be kiddin' me," she shook her head at the Doctor. _Not again._

The Doctor flashed her a glance, and pursed his lips.

Both Rose and the Doctor jumped into action at the same moment.

"Get away from the tree!" they cried.

* * *

The Doctor hadn't messed about, once he'd figured out the Racnoss Emporeress' plans. It was all over, so quickly, Rose reflected, laughing with Donna and the Doctor from the floodgates, overlooking the now drained Thames. 

After a final look at the absurd landscape –

"You won't see a sight like this again, huh?" Donna had said.

"Well, not for another…oh, three-thousand years, at least," the Doctor had rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes smug.

Rose had given him a look; "Oh, you are just _so_ clever."

Once the excitement had died down and it was time to leave, Donna had asked to be dropped off at her parents' house.

"It is Christmas, I suppose," she rolled her eyes, as they were standing outside Donna's parents' house. "Dutiful daughter and all that, right Rose? Where are you two off to, then? Friends? Family?"

Rose's grin faded. She felt the Doctor put his jacket over her shoulders, and hadn't realised that she'd been clutching her arms. Yes, it was cold. Very cold, so suddenly, too.

"Nah, it's just the two of us," the Doctor put his arm around Rose, jostling her a little, making Rose smile faintly. "Nice and quiet."

Donna huffed a laugh. "What's quiet for you two, a supanova?" she shook her head in disbelief.

Rose smiled a little and shrugged.

Donna held out her hand to Rose, then rethought and hugged her. "You live your life like this? Running, aliens, excitement."

The Doctor had piped up with an unconvincing, "not all the time!"

"I think you do," Donna pulled back from the hug with Rose, and nodded back to her parent's house. "C'mon," she grinned. "Christmas dinner. Mum always cooks enough for twenty."

Rose tried a smile, her eyes drifting toward the Christmas scene through the window. Donna's parents, together. She shook her head.

"Better not," she managed. "We're…supposed to be…somewhere. Away. Yeah. Mm…bye, Donna. I'm…--"

Rose looked down, her arms crossed over her chest, shook her head a little, and with a "see ya," hurried back inside the TARDIS. Stood inside the open door, back against the inside, head raised to the roof. _Stop it._

The Doctor was left with Donna, outside. Rose could hear them talking.

"Well then," she heard the Doctor clap his hands together. "Best be off. Lovely of you to invite us to your wedding…" he paused, "er…Christmas. But like she said, we've places to be."

Donna sounded serious. "You be gentle with her, Doctor. Might be all righ' for you, but your Rose there, she's one of us. Can she handle it? I lost my love, tonight," she reconsidered. "Well…what I thought – anyway, it doesn't matter. You…just be careful with her, okay?"

The voice Rose heard when he replied cracked slightly.

"We've all lost someone," he sounded like he had a lump in his throat. "But we still have each other."

Rose closed her eyes, forced herself to calm down, then moved away from the door and took a seat by the console.

Donna's voice again, from a bit of a distance now, "Well. Perhaps we'll see each other again, someday!" she sounded bright.

"You promise me, you will have a magnificent life."

Then the Doctor was inside the TARDIS closing the door.

Rose stared at the little flashing lights on the console, shoulders slumped.

The Doctor took a seat next to her, put his arm around her.

"It's snowing," he told her. "Well," he shrugged, a little proudly, "I made it snow. Do you want to see?"

Rose shook her head, looking at him with tears in her eyes, still trying to smile.

"Florana it is, then!" he rose, dashing to the console. "Just…bear with…" he tweaked some switches, held down a button, then tried to reach another with his foot. "Ah, Rose – could you?" he nodded to the lever she'd nearly caused a melt-down with before.

Rose looked up, then raised her eyebrows at him, standing and pulling the lever down with a slightly muffled, "you sure?"

"'Course I'm sure," the Doctor grinned, reaching back to the monitor and tapping a couple of keys.

Rose stood, watching the centre of the console pulsing with green light, her focus lost to the past once more. Her face was like stone.

"It's…my first Christmas…_ever_, without mum," Rose blinked, tiredly.

The Doctor's grin faded. The TARDIS' engines powered down.

"We're here," he announced quietly.

Rose nodded, turning away.

"You don't," he started quickly. "We don't, have to go now," he shrugged as Rose turned to look at him. "Could save it for another time?"

Rose shook her head, smiling weakly, and held out her hand to the Doctor, tears in her eyes, "I've made my choice."

And they stepped outside into the future.


	3. Episode 1: Small Steps, Giant Leaps

_SMALL STEPS, GIANT LEAPS_

_Hi guys, thank you for the nice reviews for the Runaway Bride AU.  
I renamed this episode from 'Smith and Jones', as 'Smith, Jones and Tyler' just sounded odd and didn't suit it! _

* * *

After the first trip to London with the weird and wonderful Donna, the Doctor had kept taking Rose back. It was clear that he was fascinated with not only the place, but the time Rose had come from. 

Rose flipped a page in one of those magazines that went to the hospitals to die, and waited. Trying not to watch the doorway too obviously. She read the interview about the latest Big Brother, realised that she was forcing herself to pay attention, and laughed. It wasn't that long ago that the lives of random oddballs stuck in a house for a couple of months had been the epitome of interest in her life. Until…

She smiled. Yes, travelling with the Doctor had changed her life, in oh, so many ways. Presently, and including, her sitting in a hospital bed, pretending to read a magazine, so the Doctor could snoop about under the pretence of buying flowers for his 'sick friend'.

Oh yes, he owed her. Big time. She sighed, and put the magazine aside as she heard voices and footfalls.

It was a pompous looking doctor, with a trail of med students. "Now then, Miss Tyler, a very good morning to you. How are you today?"

Rose smiled warmly, blinking and wondering why he was talking to her as though she were a three year old. "Oh, you know. So-so. You?"

The doctor nodded and turned to the med students, "Rose Tyler, admitted yesterday with severe abdominal pains. Jones, why don't you see what you can find? Amaze me."

Rose smiled at the pretty black girl who leaned over her with a stethoscope. Hoping the Doctor's plan was going to work. Failing all else she could plead bad period pains.

"Hiya, I'm Martha," the black girl smiled, placing a stethoscope on Roses' abdomen. "You got anything you want to tell me?" she asked in an undertone.

"Wha'?" Rose blinked, her heart racing.

"It's all right, I promise," Martha rolled her eyes, moving the stethoscope underneath Rose's belly button. Rose hissed a little at the cold. "How long's it been?"

Rose stared blankly at her, then smiled a little, shaking her head. "Sorry. I don't follow."

"As time passes and I grow ever more infirm and weary, Miss Jones," the doctor made both girls startle.

"Sorry," Martha spoke in the direction of the doctor, then smiled apologetically back at Rose. "Sorry. Right, where were we? Stomach cramps, no second heartbeat, no-"

"Second wha'?" Rose butted in, her heart hammering. Did this Martha know about the Doctor and his two hearts, somehow? Who-

Martha didn't miss a beat, putting a hand on Rose's arm, "We have to check, you know, most girls with weird cramps end up being pregnant-"

Rose flushed. "Bu' there's no way-"

"S'all right, you're not," Martha assured her.

"I know I'm not!"

"Might just be period pain?" one of the other student doctors piped up.

The senior doctor coughed. "You have all rather failed basic techniques by not consulting first with the patient's chart," he said, sharply.

Even Rose felt nervous for the students.

The doctor picked up the chart at the end of Rose's bed – _What did he say I have??_

- and dropped it, as a spark flew from the metal tubing bed end, to the doctor's hand.

"That happened to me this morning…" the girl Martha frowned.

"I had the same thing on the door handle."

"And me, on the lift."

"Yes, all right, settle yourselves," the doctor sucked on his finger a moment, then; "There's a thunderstorm moving in and lightning is a form of static electricity, as was first proven by - anyone?"

"Benjamin Franklin."

Rose grinned and looked up. There, in the doorway, was the Doctor, the _real_ Doctor, holding a bunch of flowers and grinning.

_He actually bought me flowers, I thought it was just an excuse,_ Rose reflected, the sight of the Doctor with a bouquet for _her_ warming her a little, no matter what the pretence.

"Correct!" the senior doctor pointed out, giving a knowing look to his students. "Now, moving on…"

He moved away from Rose's bed. Martha turned back, gave Rose a sorry smile, and continued on with her class.

Rose exhaled and laughed a little as the Doctor came to her bedside. "The things I do for you, I swear!"

"You'd better not, this is supposed to be a _restful_ place, Miss Tyler" the Doctor chirped, presenting the bouquet.

"Aww, thank you!" Rose took the bunch of red and yellow tulips. "They're beautiful!"

"Got them at the little shop downstairs," he nodded proudly, hands in his pockets. "_They_ have a shop," nodding, grinning.

Rose smelled her flowers as the Doctor took up her chart.

He cleared his throat. "Dear me, what have we here," he put on his glasses.

Rose opened her eyes, looking above the flowers at the Doctor worriedly. "Wha's it say?" She knew it was silly to be worried. She'd only been planted in here to let him do his snooping. Still, all day in a boring hospital by yourself was enough to make anyone slightly hypochondriac.

"Rose Tyler," he said solemnly, "I'm afraid you're _not_ going to be a mummy today."

Rose laughed and nearly threw the bouquet at him. "Why is tha' the first thing everyone thinks? Firs' look at me, all those student doctor's faces screamed 'unplanned pregnancy'!"

The Doctor grinned and put down the chart, leaning on the end of Rose's bed. "Weeell," he scratched behind his ear, "you can never tell with today's youth; out till all hours, drinking, _dancing_-" his eyes sparkled.

Rose scoffed, "Oh, we are_ not_ having tha' silly _dancing_ conversation again."

The Doctor shrugged, "Oh, I dunno…" and looked towards the large, open windows, smiling. Then frowning.

"All righ' mister, enough of tha'," Rose tilted her head, "tell me. Did you find wha' you wanted?"

"Hmm?" the Doctor turned back, distracted.

Rose waited, looking up at him. "Wha' we're here for is…now, you finish with…" she waved her hands for him to continue.

The Doctor wasn't listening, walking toward the window, now. "Odd sort of weather, isn't it?"

Rose crawled to the end of her bed and looked around the privacy curtain. Dryly; "Oh yes, how incredibly odd, it's rainin' in London. Now, can we get outta here--?"

She was cut off by what felt like an earthquake. A number of loud cracking sounds, a lot of shaking. The Doctor dove for her as she fell from the bed, and they both ended up sprawled on the floor, a bit battered, by the time the world stabilised.

"Damn!" the Doctor jumped to his feet and ran to the window. Then; "I see."

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Rose picked herself up, dusting off the hospital smock he'd made her wear ("Authenticity, Rose! The key to any successful ploy!" the Doctor had grinned, waggling his eyebrows, as Rose had taken the smock mutinously and gone to change in the empty room.). She held her arms to herself…it had gotten colder, quite suddenly.

"Rose, come look," the Doctor smirked sideways at her, hands in his pockets, turning back to the window. "Whoever did this is –"

Rose gasped as she surveyed the view. "It's…beautiful."

They were on the moon.

Rose breathed in the view a moment longer. "So, how--?"

"All right in here?" a voice called from the doorway. Rose and the Doctor turned to face the girl from before, Martha. Her eyes were panicked; her voice commanded control, though wavering slightly. She must have been trying to restore order. Of course. They were in a hospital, with lots of people. Not everyone was used to planet-hopping.

"Rose, you should get back to bed, we've got a bit of an emergency but we'll sort it out."

"I'm…I'm fine," Rose shook her head, her eyes fluttering a moment as she tried not to laugh at the situation. She was sure, deep down, this was serious. But for the moment, before the inevitable running for their lives, the oddness of the day was laughable.

The Doctor shot her a warning look, not without a hint of amusement. Rose wondered if he was enjoying this as much as she was; and didn't need to ask herself again. Of course he was.

"We're shaken, not stirred," the Doctor assured Martha calmly. Rose rolled her eyes at him.

Martha looked between the two of them, as though they belonged in the psychiatric ward. "This isn't funny," she crossed her brows. "We're on the moon, if you hadn't noticed, there's people out there panicking, god knows how we got her, let alone how we're going to get back _or_ how we're even _breathing_—"

Rose turned to the Doctor conversationally, "You know, she's righ', how are we breathin'? Force field or somethin'?"

The Doctor shrugged, "I'm done speculating, let's go find out," he turned back to Martha.

"Miss uh-"

"Jones," Martha looked the Doctor up and down, her arms still crossed, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

"Yah, Miss Jones, is there a balcony on this floor? Or a verandah or--?"

"By the patients' lounge, yeah."

The Doctor offered Rose his arm. "Fancy a turn?"

Rose grinned and hooked her hand in his elbow as they hurried from the room.

Martha followed them, agog. "Are you two mental? We might die!"

Without a word, the Doctor flung the doors open. He and Rose stepped out, Martha at their heels, staring in wonder at the view.

"We've…got air! How does that work?" Martha asked, turning quickly to Rose.

She smiled. "Jus' be glad it does – look, isn' she lovely?" Rose nodded back to the Earth on the moon's horizon.

Martha seemed to let go of confusion as she stared at the planet. Rose watched her face go from fear, to wonder, to concern. "I've got a party tonight. It's my brother's twenty-first. My mother's going to be really…

"We'll get back," Rose nudged Martha's arm confidently. "We always do."

The Doctor had crossed his brows at Rose, his mouth skewed. "No pressure on me then, eh?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say tha'," Rose spoke loftily. "The pressure seems to have come with us, jus' like all this breathable air," she grinned cheekily at him, leaning forward on the railing.

The Doctor put his head in his hand and tried not to laugh. "That…was…_terrible_!"

"Aw, you loved it."

Martha was again gaping between Rose and the Doctor.

"Who are you people?"

* * *

"They've reached third floor," Martha called, closing the door behind them. "What's that thing?" 

"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor supplied hurriedly, buzzing it bluely at a computer terminal.

"Well, if you're not going to answer me properly-!"

"He's no' jokin'," Rose called as she dashed to the terminal after the Doctor. The running for their lives had started much earlier than she'd expected when the loud stomping of the Judoon had entered the building.

"What else you got? A laser spanner?"

Rose hit her head sarcastically, "I left it on the console."

The Doctor hit the computer "The Judoon must have locked it down when they landed. Judoon platoon upon the moon," grinning.

"What-?" Martha started.

"Of course!" he turned to Rose, his eyes sparkling. "cause we were just travelling past, just wandering like usual, but I noticed these plasma coils around the hospital, and that lightning, that's plasma coils, been building up for two days now, so I checked you in to have a snoop--"

"An' the plasma coils were the Judoon getting' ready to move the hospital?" Rose finished excitedly.

"Yeap!" the Doctor grinned.

"What were they looking for?" Rose breathed seriously, forcing her mind to keep up.

"Something that looks human, but isn't."

"Like you," Rose supplied.

"Apparently," Martha huffed.

"Like me," the Doctor shot Martha a look. "But not me."

"So, like, somethin' that can change it's shape?" Rose asked. "To act human?"

"Why the hospital?" Martha threw her hands up in the air.

"I don't know," the Doctor mused, almost to himself. "Have there been any patients admitted in the past week with unusual symptoms?" another blow to the computer terminal as it failed to respond.

"More unusual than you two?"

Rose was about to bite back wittily, but as she turned to the door, she noticed a humanoid shape, behind Martha, wearing black leathers and a bike helmet.

The Doctor chose to look up at that moment as well. "Run!"

He grabbed Rose's hand, and Martha's with his other as they dashed down the stairs. Rose could hear the black-clad thing following them. It was so terrifying, so suddenly, Rose's could feel the adrenalin pumping through her body and tried to control it.

They just about ran into the Judoon at one point, but darted into another hallway on the fourth floor, a room with an MRI machine in it. The Doctor practically tossed both Rose and Martha into an adjoining room, locked the door with a flick of the sonic, and turned to face the oncoming black leather thing Rose was sure to have nightmares about, if they made it out alive.

"Doctor!" Rose cried, trying to open the door he'd just locked.

The Doctor barked an order, "When I say 'now', press the button."

"I don't know which one!" Martha called back.

"Doctor what are you doin', you'll--!" Rose cried, cutting herself off, looking around the room for something to bash open the door with. She couldn't let the word form in her mouth; _die_. If he died, he'd regenerate. He'd still be the Doctor, but…

No. _Not_ going to happen. He was all she had left. He wasn't going to die from this stupid black leather thing.

"Rose stay where you are, I know what I'm doing!" the Doctor pointed back at her, then soniced some machinery nearby. "Just find out which button turns this on. Trust me!" he called.

Rose, her mind racing, turned back to Martha. She'd found an operator's manual, and was pouring over a chapter labelled, "Quick Start".

"Gotcha," Martha said quietly, jumping to her feet and watching the Doctor.

"Now!"

Rose's hands covered her mouth as she tried to fight down the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at the sight of the Doctor being zapped by radiation as Martha flicked a switch. _Trust me! _he'd ordered her. Rose tried to convince herself he would be fine, that he really did know what he was doing, and not just trying to act all heroic as usual.

The moment the zapping stopped, Rose dashed to the door.

"Are you all righ'?" she called desperately.

"Yeah, it's only radiation," the Doctor dusted himself off.

Rose put her head in her hands as he unlocked the door for them and proceeded to expel the last of the radiation from his shoe. He grinned at them both.

The Doctor had opened his mouth to speak, but Rose intervened, hugging him tightly around the neck, making a squeaking noise.

"What?" he laughed, patting her back.

Rose shook her head, rested it on his shoulder, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "Nothin'," she said lightly, pulling away.

The Doctor gave her a half smile, and nodded to Martha.

Rose had completely forgotten Martha was still there. She turned back, and saw the girl crouched down, surveying the black leather – now dead – thing.

"So what is that thing?" Martha asked the Doctor. "And where's it from? The planet Zovirax?"

"It's just a Slab," the Doctor informed, walking back toward the machinery. "They're called 'Slabs'. Basic slave drones, see? Solid leather, all the way through."

"Someone has got one hell of a fetish." Rose scoffed.

"It came with that woman, Mrs. Finnegan," Martha said thoughtfully. "It was working for her. Just like a servant."

Rose, calming her shattered nerves, nodded at Martha. "Let's find her then."

"Oh, no!!" the Doctor sounded dismayed. "My sonic screwdriver!"

Rose turned back to the MRI; the Doctor's sonic screwdriver had been melted in places and looked completely ruined.

* * *

There was no time to dwell on the sonic screwdriver's loss however as they'd raced through the hospital once more, on a search this time for an alien, masquerading as an old lady called Florence Finnegan. Martha had made the connection, and the Doctor had named it Plasmavore. An alien that would assimilate every drop of blood in a victim's body to transform their genetic makeup. They were running out of air, and time. 

The search lead them to an office, belonging to a Mr Stoker, who had recently been drained by the plasmavore.

"Find the non-human. Execute," came the metallic command from the hallway.

Rose covered her mouth, already feeling woozy at the sight of the blood-drained ex-doctor at her feet. "They're getting closer…"

"Rose, quickly, go to the MRI room," he commanded in a hurry. "I'll follow."

"But--"

"Go!" the Doctor ordered.

Rose nodded, mutely dashing from the room.

Stay here," Rose heard the Doctor talking to Martha as she ran. "I need time. You're going to have to hold them up. Now…"

* * *

Rose continued back to the MRI room, where the machine the Doctor had fiddled with earlier was making strange noises. An old lady was working with the controls with a furrowed brow of concentration. 

"Are you all righ'?" Rose asked warily.

The old lady snapped to attention, glaring at Rose.

"Look, I don't know what you're doin' in here, but come with me, I'll take you to the others--" Rose started walking forwards, and noticed the black slabs. How had she not seen them before? So _this _was the old lady, Florence Finnegan, they'd been looking for?

"Hold her!" Florance bellowed.

"Hey, watch it!" Rose moved to exit, but the slabs restrained her. She looked either side of her at the faceless black leather things, then shrugged. Well, the Doctor would be along any minute. No point in getting excited.

The old lady scowled and smirked at the same time, going back to fiddling with the machinery in the room. Sparks flew in all directions.

"What on _earth_ are you doin' to tha' thing?" Rose asked, trying to stall her. "Sparks everywhere! Aren't you over chargin' it a bit?"

Florence appeared to ignore Rose, but there wasn't exactly anyone else in the room to talk to. "The magnetic setting is now set to 50,000 Tesla. I can send out a magnetic pulse that will fry the brain-stems of every living thing within 250,000 miles. Except me, safe in this room."

"Why would you want to do tha'?" Rose raised an eyebrow. _C'mon Doctor!_

"With everyone dead, the Judoon ships will be mine, to make my escape," Florence revealed.

"But," Rose spied the doorway worriedly, "the Judoon won't let you. They were right behind me --"

"Oh, but they will let me go," she smiled a sweet old lady smile that burned like acid. "All I need do is assimilate again."

Rose eyed the old lady, trying to shrug the Slabs off. She knew what that meant.

"I'm afraid this is going to hurt," the old lady wielded a straw menacingly. "But if it's any consolation, the dead don't tend to remember."

* * *

"STOP!" a voice Rose had been longing to hear commanded from a distance. 

Rose struggled and screamed a little. She wasn't sure if the straw had embedded itself in her neck, but she felt a little numb in the area. Everything did go black for a moment – before Rose realised that she had been pushed face-first into the chest full of a slab.

"Get off me!" Rose shoved the slab away, as the Doctor dashed into the room and struggled with the old lady. Rose watched through a haze, not quite sure that she was seeing her Doctor push the old lady towards the MRI, then stick the straw into his own neck with a wince.

"Doctor…?" Rose blinked, holding her hand against a wall, trying to stay upright. Whoa, stability was gone.

The Judoon trooped into the room, Martha hot on their heels.

"Rose!" she dashed to the side of the room, checking her over, examining her neck. "Are you all right?"

"Martha, the Doctor, he's…they'll find out he's…"

Rose and Martha watched in horror as the Judoon pulled the Doctor upright and scanned him. They did the same to the old lady, who appeared unfazed.

"Human," the Doctor was released.

"Non-human," Florence was pronounced almost at the same time.

"What?" she blinked angrily.

"Confirm analysis," one of the Judoon demanded.

"Oh, but it's a mistake, surely. I'm human. I'm as human as they come," the old bat smiled sweetly again.

Rose's eyes were on the Doctor while Florence tried to convince the Judoon platoon that she was a human. He was sagging, breathless, against one of the sparking machines. He winced again, pulling the straw from his neck. _What had he done? They'd confirmed him human…_  
**  
**"Confirmed: Plasmavore," the Judoon doing all the talking announced, standing over Mrs. Finnegan. "I charge you with the crime of murdering the princess of Patrival Regency Nine…"

* * *

Rose was still hazy about what had happened. The Doctor had unplugged something to stop the overcharged MRI, she thought. The Judoon had shifted them all back to Earth. Martha's mobile phone had started ringing. 

They had been invited to another party as she'd dashed away.

"Making a habit of getting out and about, aren't we?" the Doctor smiled at Rose from inside the TARDIS med bay, dabbing gently under her eyes and around her neck with a soft piece of cotton that had been drenched in something she thought smelled like lemons. "Quite the pair of gatecrashers. You sure you're not part French? Now, _they_ know how to party!"

Rose had smiled tiredly from the bench, legs dangling over the side, still in the silly hospital smock. She knew she looked terrible; dark rings under her eyes, her hair hanging lank. She didn't quite feel in the partying mood, at that moment. "Feels like I'm already hungover," she huffed a laugh.

The Doctor smiled, unspeaking for once, dabbing just underneath her ears now, his expression composed mainly of pride, Rose thought absurdly. She thought he might say something to explain the look, but when he didn't--

"Well, you did it, saved us all again," Rose broke the silence, widening her smile. "I don' know how, but you convinced them you were a dumb ape like the rest of us."

The Doctor shrugged, smiling at his own cleverness, and spoke quite softly considering he usually boasted loudly at moments like these. "Just used the plasmavore's trick against her, really. She hadn't absorbed any of your blood, thankfully, and there was _just_ enough in that straw to fool them-"

"Wait a minute," Rose blinked, trying to catch on. "You absorbed my blood? That's how you showed up human?"

"Yeap," the Doctor nodded quickly, focussing on wiping down the round cut mark on Rose's neck.

"_My_ blood?" she repeated, looking up at the Doctor in shock. "To appear _human_?" agog.

"Well," The Doctor stood back a little, shrugging. "Not entirely human. Couldn't have convinced a more intensive scan, I'll have to admit. Wouldn't have worked if she'd absorbed any of your blood, either…" he mused.

"All righ', tha's a bit creepy…" Rose looked down.

"Nahh," the Doctor smiled again. "It's just blood. In fact, you _could_ say, Rose Tyler," he dabbed the cotton on her nose playfully now, "that _you_ saved the world, this time."

* * *

The Doctor hadn't gone to Martha's brother's party in the end, either. He did bring the girl back, though, for a look at the TARDIS, since she had helped them so much on the moon. 

"Thought you might fancy a trip," the Doctor said finally, smirking over the console at Martha.

Rose stiffened a little at the invitation from her seat by the console, bundled up with a blanket around her shoulders; he hadn't asked her about this. Sure, Martha had helped them out, but…  
Wait, who was she kidding? Why would he need her permission for anything? It was _his_ ship.

Martha was making excited sounds from the doorway.

"Just one trip to say 'thanks'," the Doctor laughed at her enthusiasm.

The Doctor swung a glance in Rose's direction, and Rose checked herself, forcing a smile and a nod.

Martha seemed over the moon, Rose thought, rolling her eyes and looking away at her own bad pun.

"One trip, then back home," the Doctor pointed at Martha to make sure she had that clear.

Martha shrugged and laughed, "Sure, whatever you say - _you're_ the one that kissed _me_!"

Rose's heartbeat must have stopped for a moment. Her eyes snapped to the Doctor. He did _what_?

"When did this happen?" she tried to sound unfazed, like her normal self and she'd just found out one of her friends had snogged some random the night before. It didn't quite work; her voice wavered, her throat was closing.

"That was a genetic transfer," he defended angrily at Martha, shooting a tight-lipped look at Rose that explained nothing.

"Is that what they're calling it these days…?" Rose trailed off quietly, almost to herself.

"Well, for the record?" Martha leaned on the console, raising her eyebrows. She hadn't seemed to notice Rose's reply. "I'm not remotely interested. I only go for humans," smugly.

"Good," the Doctor fired quickly. "Well, then. Close down the gravitic anomalizer. Fire up the helmic regulator. And finally - the hand brake. Ready girls?"

Rose didn't really hear the Doctor as he tried to shake off the awkward moment. Martha hadn't even seemed to realise anything was wrong, either, bouncing around the TARDIS as it shook, with laughter in her voice.

Rose held on to the back of the seat by the console, only subconsciously aware that they were moving. What had just happened? Why was she so surprised? The Doctor, he was very…well, he was always tasting things. Jam, blood, whatever. But…genetic transfer? A _kiss_?

As absurd as she felt being jealous, she started to wonder if she'd been reading more into their relationship than their really was.

The TARDIS hurled the three of them into time and space. Rose very suddenly, very badly, wanted chips.

But she stayed quiet.

* * *

...next episode, _The Shakespeare Code_...

* * *


	4. Episode 2: The Shakespeare Code

_THE SHAKESPEARE CODE_

_I have really been looking forward to writing this episode with Rose in it! I hope you like it too!  
Thanks to those who have reviewed so far!_

* * *

The TARDIS felt as though it was ricocheting off all sides of the vortex. They'd had some bumpy rides throughout time, space, the universe, and this journey was no different to Rose.

The new girl Martha, there for 'just a thank you trip', the Doctor had promised her, was ecstatic.

And the Doctor was loving her excitement, Rose could tell. He was trying to stay nonchalant about the journey, trying to keep cool, but Rose could see the added sparkle in his eyes, the way his entire being glowed when he grinned. He got such a great enjoyment out of making other people happy. That's all he was doing, Rose told herself. Making Martha happy.

_So stop being such a baby,_ she ordered herself, rising from the seat by the console shakily to join the pair. Genetic transfer, kiss, whatever it was the Doctor and Martha _had_ had on the moon…it didn't matter, did it? Rose and the Doctor didn't have any contract with each other; and no matter what they'd shared, Rose was still just another passenger in a long line of…friends. She should be content with him showing her the universe--

The TARDIS jerked everyone to the left. Rose adjusted herself automatically, distributing her weight evenly to keep her balance and grabbing the side of the console, as the Doctor did the same. Kicking in their 'space legs', as Rose had dubbed this stance.

Martha started to fall, wrenched toward the left of the room. Rose stuck out her hand and gripped Martha's wrist.

"Oh! I gotcha!" Rose doubled her grip with the other hand, steadying Martha as the TARDIS evened out.

Martha rebalanced herself while laughing, her eyes shining. "Thanks!" she laughed. "Don't know how you ever got the hang of this!"

"Dunno, jus' get used to it, I guess, like at sea," Rose answered, steadying Martha toward the centre console, and letting her go when the girl had her hands on the sides once more. "Space legs," she shrugged.

"Yeah, well, lucky you," Martha smiled, rolling her eyes in jest.

Rose laughed as well at Martha's sarcasm, she couldn't help herself. Her excitement _was_ catching.

Then she noticed the Doctor, watching them both laughing from the other side of the console. He had an odd small smile on his face, as well.

He had been looking at Rose like this, on and off, since he'd invited Martha on board. If it had just been the two of them, Rose was sure he would have spoken up about his secret smile. Or, perhaps he was gauging her reaction to this cuckoo in their nest. He'd reacted differently when Adam or Jack or even Mickey had been there when Rose had (and sometimes hadn't) wanted them; how would she react to someone the Doctor had invited that they barely knew?

Rose made sure she grinned back at him. She couldn't help but feel a little odd about it, either. A little…jealous? Too strong a word. It was just one trip, anyway. She just had to ride this one trip out.

After a pause, Martha's eyes roving over the TARDIS interior; "How do you travel in time anyway, what makes it go?" she called across the console to the Doctor.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh, let's take the fun and the mystery out of everything!" he was turning a wheel over the other side, and started to move around a bit, mind occupied with his ship once more.

Rose smirked up at Martha, "I don' really wanna know, it just does," she told her, rolling her eyes.

"But--"

"Hold on tight!" the Doctor called out.

Rose didn't have time to see what he was doing as the TARDIS lurched to the left again. Martha fell back from the console as Rose leaned on it for support.

With an almighty _crash_, the TARDIS powered down. They'd landed.

"Blimey," Martha got herself up this time. "Did you have to pass a test to fly this thing?" in an accusing tone.

The Doctor was on the move as he spoke, running, grabbing his and Rose's coats, hanging over a fork near the doorway. "Yes, and I failed it, now, make the most of it!"

Rose hurried to the Doctor's side, took her hoodie, shrugged it on, without a word.

"I promised you one trip and one trip only," the Doctor reminded Martha, shrugging on his own long brown coat as Martha joined them both. "Outside this door…" he said quietly, raising his eyebrows for effect. "Brave new world."

Rose rolled her eyes, looking away, trying to stop from laughing. He was turning it on for her, wasn't he?

Martha grinned at Rose in excitement, then back to the Doctor almost reverently. "Where are we?"

"Take a look," the Doctor smirked, nodding back over his shoulder and opening the door. "After you."

Martha stepped outside the TARDIS, her whole face expressing wonder.

The Doctor was still so happy, Rose reflected, looking up at him from under her lashes. She smiled at him again. This wasn't going to be so bad--

The Doctor turned away from watching the grinning Martha, to Rose. His arm blocked the doorway a moment, so Rose couldn't follow.

Rose startled, noticing that his eyes - they weren't happily shining any more. They were…something else. Old. Tired? His smile fell.

"Wha's the matter?" Rose's smile dropped as well.

The Doctor let out a long breath; "You're angry with me," he said on the exhale. His eyes bore into hers.

"Why would I be angry with you?" Rose answered quietly, shaking her head a little, shooting a questioning look back at him. Unable to help but feel nervous all of a sudden.

The Doctor turned his head, to look outside. Rose did the same; saw Martha standing a couple of steps from the TARDIS, her back to them, but her head turning in all directions, taking in the sights.

"Yes, you are," he said quietly, knowingly.

"No. I'm not," Rose tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "Shouldn' we get out there?" she raised her eyebrows. The Doctor dropped his arm with another sigh, and Rose walked past.

"Suit yourself," he muttered.

* * *

_What on earth was that all about,_ Rose began to wonder, stepping up beside Martha. She'd been behaving. She hadn't said anything. And she was being nice to Martha. What did he expect?

She didn't have long to ponder the Doctor's statement. Martha turned to her and grabbed both of Rose's hands excitedly. "You're _so_ kidding me. I actually travelled in time!"

Rose nodded, smiling, trying to shrug off the awkward feeling she had. "Yeap, sure did!"

Martha continued quickly. "Where are we?" she looked around the alleyway they'd landed in, bustling with people, then reconsidered. "No, sorry, gotta get used to this, whole new language. _When_ are we--?"

"Mind that!" the Doctor quickly stepped between the girls, hurrying them forward as someone threw the contents of a chamber pot out a high window. "Somewhere before they invented the toilet," the Doctor replied, patting both girls on the shoulders. "Sorry about that."

"I can't believe _tha'_ nearly landed on us," Rose spoke in an undertone, miffed, and quite embarrassed at not having noticed it herself. She looked up at the window the mess had come out from. "Oi, buster, watch where you're--!"

"Ah no no no, don't go starting any arguments with the locals _quite_ just yet, Rose," the Doctor hurried them along again. A couple of people had stopped in the street to watch them idly.

Rose looked at him oddly. She didn't go around the universe, starting arguments, he knew that. She just didn't like having the contents of someone's toilet nearly dropped on her head. Anyone from this time would have yelled out, too, right? What was up with him? She opened her mouth to respond, but Martha intervened.

"That's what it's like back here, right?" Martha smiled to Rose. "And, I've seen worse, worked late night shift A&E!" she laughed. "Messy!"

Rose _Hmmed_ a reply.

"But are we safe, right?" Martha turned around, stopping the Doctor and Rose in their tracks. "I mean, can we move around and stuff?" she waved a hand out at the expanse of people.

"'Course we can, why do you ask?" the Doctor asked, eyebrows ever so slightly crossed. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stepped around Martha to continue walking.

"It's like in the films," Martha went on, blinking as though it were obvious, turning back to face the Doctor as he walked. "You," she searched a moment. "You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."

Rose stepped up beside Martha. "Jus' don't step on any butterflies," she said loftily.

"What have butterflies ever done to you?" the Doctor turned 180 degrees, frowning at Martha.

Martha hurried after the Doctor. Rose quickened her steps to keep up with them.

"What if? I dunno," Martha was still trying to get her point across to the Doctor. Rose watched the interchange, amused. Had _she_ been like this on her first trip?

"What if I kill my grandfather?" Martha asked finally, as though pulling a trump card.

"Are you planning to?" the Doctor didn't miss a beat.

"No," Martha blinked.

"All right then," the Doctor continued walking down the lane.

Martha had stopped in her tracks. Rose stopped next to her, checked Martha for reactions. The Doctor was being a little…evasive. Unhelpful even, for her first trip.

"You all righ'?" Rose asked.

Martha was shaking her head, her eyes on the Doctor, face a mask of exasperated wonder. "Is he _always_ like this?"

Rose nodded. "Pretty much. Bit of a know-it-all. Thinks he's _so_ clever," she laughed with Martha.

"And this is London?" Martha asked Rose, surveying the street again in awe.

"Guess so," Rose shrugged. "C'mon," Rose grabbed Martha's arm, and hurried them along to catch up to the Doctor.

"Oh, but hold on. Am I all right?" Martha stopped them. "Not going to get carted off as a slave am I?"

"And why would they do that?" the Doctor turned back now they were in earshot.

"Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed," she pointed at herself, sarcasm back in her voice.

"S'all right, not exactly from this time, either," Rose indicated their clothing. Both girls were wearing jeans; Martha's an indigo colour, and Rose's, a worn blue. "Never seems to bother people too much when you're with 'im," she thumbed in the Doctor's direction.

"I'm not even human, just…walk about like you own the place, works for me," he shrugged. "Besides, you two would be surprised," he raised his eyebrows at Rose, being the know-it-all, again. "Elizabethan England. Around…1599, I'd say. Not so different from your time." He smirked.

Rose smiled back – she couldn't help herself, cheekily, "I never saw anyone at the estate throw stuff like tha' out the windows--"

"Sure you did," the Doctor winked and patted her on the back convincingly. Rose genuinely laughed at this.

The Doctor continued, "Over there – they've got recycling," he pointed.

Rose turned to see a man, shovelling horse manure. She heard Martha laugh next to her.

"Water coolers," the Doctor pointed out a couple of men around a barrel. Rose shook her head at the Doctor, laughing as well.

"And the Earth will be consumed by flames!" the voice of a man rang out over the crowds. He was walking in the opposite direction to them, a bible in his hands, preaching.

"Global warming," the Doctor nodded, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

Rose covered her mouth to stop from laughing so loudly.

"Oh yes, and…!" the Doctor skipped ahead of them. He was on a roll. "Entertainment! Popular entertainment for the masses! If I'm right," he started running. Rose and Martha looked at each other in wonder and hurried after him.

"We're just down the river by Southwark?" the Doctor asked nobody. "Right next too…" more running.

Rose and Martha caught up to the Doctor as he stopped, with a look of triumph ahead of them.

"Ah yes! The Globe Theatre. Brand new, just opened!"

Rose marvelled up at the black and white building in the foreground. "'S beautiful!"

"Though, strictly speaking it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon, got 14 sides," the Doctor turned back to the girls, flourishing a wide smile. "Containing, the man himself!"

"Whoa, you don't mean…" Martha's eyes widened. "Shakespeare in there?"

"Oh yes!" the Doctor announced, stepping between the girls again, offering each an elbow. "Miss Tyler, Miss Jones," he said pompously, "will you accompany me to the theatre?"

"Oh, sir, I will!" Martha took an elbow, grinning.

"C'mon, ya big dork," Rose grabbed his other elbow, shaking her head in amusement. It was so, so odd having someone else with them, after all this time. And more odd having someone else on the Doctor's other arm.

They trooped toward the Globe, arms linked.

"And when you go home Martha, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare!" the Doctor grinned.

"Then, I could get sectioned!" Martha replied sarcastically.

"Tell me abou' it," Rose laughed.

* * *

The Globe theatre sported new paint and there was definitely an unworn feeling about. They'd caught the end of _Love's Labour's Lost_, the Doctor had identified and told them excitedly.

"That's amazing, just amazing!" Martha applauded as the actors bowed. "It's worth putting up with the smell."

"And those are men dressed as women, yeah?" Rose asked, on her tip-toes, clapping.

"London never changes," Martha snorted in laughter. "But where's Shakespeare, I wanna see Shakespeare!" Martha's eyes roved the stage. "Author! Author!" she called.

The Doctor and Rose looked at her. Martha stopped. "Do people shout that, do they shout author?"

A man standing behind Rose repeated; "Author! Author!"

Before long, there were a number of people echoing this call.

"They do now," the Doctor raised his eyebrows, turning back to the stage.

Rose turned back to watch as well. With a flurry of cheers from the charged crowd, a young man with a beard ran out onstage, kicking and raising up his hand in a flourish, then sagging back down, grinning and laughing. This must have been Shakespeare.

"Bit different to his portraits," Martha raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm, I'll say," Rose smirked with Martha.

The Doctor hadn't noticed Martha and Rose's tone as he agreed with them; "Genius. He's a genius, _the_ genius, the most human human there's ever been!"

Rose flicked a glance at the Doctor. He was excited, genuinely excited.

"And now we're going to hear him speak. Always, he choses the _best_ words, new _beautiful_ best words," the Doctor told them certainly, with admiration.

Onstage, _the_ Mr Shakespeare spake; "Ah! Shut your big fat mouths!"

Rose let out a laugh with the rest of the audience.

"Oh well," the Doctor sighed.

"You should never meet your heroes," Martha told the Doctor.

Onstage; "You've got excellent taste! I'll give ya that!" Shakespeare played the crowd.

Rose found herself completely caught up in the crowd's mood, in the atmosphere, as Shakespeare explained his play to the audience. It was like…magic, in the air.

"I know what you're all saying, _Love's Labour's Lost_, that's a funny ending isn't it? It just stops," he threw his hands up. "Will the boys get the girls? Well don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon," he promised, grinning. The crowd went mad with questions, all asked at once. "Yeah yeah, all in good time! You don't rush a genius!" he waved. Stumbled a little.

Martha looked skewed at Rose. "What was that?"

Rose shrugged. "Drinks backstage?"

"When?" Shakespeare repeated the audience's question. "Tomorrow night!"

There were cheers from the crowd.

"The premiere of my brand new play, a sequel no less, and I call it, _Love's Labour's Won_!" Shakespeare announced.

The cheers of the crowd were deafening. Rose covered her ears and shared a grin with the Martha as she clapped and whooped.

Rose turned to her other side, to the Doctor. Her smile faltered.

The Doctor looked very concerned.

* * *

The crowd moved slowly on the exit from the Globe. Rose's cheeks felt hot, and she tied her hoodie around her waist for some relief, while the Doctor had explained that _Love's Labour's Won_ was Shakespeare's famous lost play. That in their time, it didn't exist, and while it was mentioned in the list of his plays, it never ever turned up.

"And no one knows why," the Doctor mused.

"Well…" Rose felt a bit put off by the Doctor's concern. "Should we stick around for its premiere?"

Martha's eyes brightened. "Have you guys got a minidisk or something? We could tape it, we can flog it! Sell it when we get home, make a mint!"

"No," Rose and the Doctor said at the same moment.

Martha looked between them, nodding at the realisation; "That would be bad."

"But," Rose looked up at the Doctor, putting on her best puppy-dog eyes. "We can always stay here 'til tomorrow an' watch it ourselves, righ'?"

The Doctor, hands in his pockets, looked down at Rose. She could tell he was trying to think of some way to say no; but he wasn't going to. He sighed. "Oh, okay, I give up. I was just going to give you a quick little trip in the TARDIS," to Martha. "Might as well stay a bit longer," he strolled off again through the crowd.

Rose and Martha grinned at one another, Martha clapping her hands. "Yay!"

* * *

The Doctor seemed all too well to know where he was going; a pub, called the Elephant.

"What's in here then?" Martha asked as the Doctor stepped inside, calling out for them to follow. Rose shrugged.

Instead of staying at the bar, the Doctor bounded up the back stairs of the pub. Rose had enough time to notice all the people drinking, singing, gambling, before Martha grabbed her arm to follow.

"Wha's he _doin'_?" Rose asked nobody in particular.

"I thought he just wanted a pint," Martha joked.

Evidently not. Rose watched in dread as the Doctor bounded into a room on the second level. _Oh my God, he's going to get us into such trouble! Next thing, he'll lick someone. _

"Hello! Excuse me," the Doctor announced himself. "Not interrupting am I? Mr Shakespeare isn't it?" his voice betrayed his fandom.

Martha dashed the last few steps into the room. "Why didn't he say that's where we were going?" excitedly.

Rose stopped outside the door. "Because it's _stalkin'_. We're _stalkin'_ Shakespeare."

There were three men in the room, and the publican, a cheery looking blonde lady.

Shakespeare was sitting at a desk, hand over his eyes, groaning at the intrusion "Oh no. No no no, who let you in?" he moaned. "No autographs, no you can't have yourself sketched with me, and please don't ask me where I get my ideas from, thanks for the interest, now be a good boy and shove…" he waved his hand, looking at the Doctor, Martha and Rose for the first time. He stopped. Blinked, staring at Rose. Rose suddenly felt very aware that she was wearing a singlet top in Elizabethan London.

She looked oddly between a grinning Martha, and a grinning Doctor, though the latter's grin was waning. The Doctor looked between Rose and Shakespeare, clearing his throat and stepping forwards--

"Ohhh," Shakespeare seemed to groan, "I see, sit right down here right next to me," he told the three of them, "you two," to the other men in the room, "get sewing on them costumes, off you go."

The publican cleared away some pints, "C'mon lads, I think our William's found his new muse," she teased, laughing and leaving the room with the costume designers.

Shakespeare stood, coming around and offering a hand to Rose. "Sweet beauty, thy nature shows art that through thy _bosom_ makes me see thy heart--"

Rose blushed and laughed a bit as Shakespeare lead her to a seat, quoting one of his plays, Rose was sure. But, it was cute.

Martha stepped forward eagerly and took the seat next to Rose. "Verily, for sooth e gads," she started.

The Doctor seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he'd been held by. "No…no, don't do that," he told Martha quietly. He stepped forward and took off his coat, placing it over Rose's shoulders. His right hand stayed on her right shoulder.

Rose moved her head slightly, to look at it out of the corner of her eye, then stopped. It was a sign of possession, wasn't it? He acted this way around Jack, at first, too.

The Doctor brandished the psychic paper in his left hand. "I'm Sir Doctor of TARDIS--"

Rose stopped herself from laughing out loud and spoiling the ruse. Queen Victoria had dubbed him Sir Doctor-

"--and these ladies are my companions, Dame Rose Tyler of the Powell Estate--"

_Oh god, stop yourself Rose, you'll spoil it!_ She pursed her lips in an amused smile. Shakespeare was keeping his eyes on her; he'd notice if she laughed.

--and Miss Martha Jones," the Doctor finished.

Shakespeare's eyes flickered to the psychic paper for an instant. "Interesting, that bit of paper? Blank," he announced.

"Oh, that's…very clever," the Doctor smiled admirably. "That proves it. Absolute genius."

Shakespeare _Mmm_'ed an ascent.

Martha looked to her right at the psychic paper herself, confusion in her expression, "No, it says right there, Sir Doctor, Dame Rose and Martha Jones, it says so."

"I say it's blank," Shakespeare leaned back in his chair.

Rose looked away to stop herself from laughing and smiled at Martha. "Psychic paper…" she said quietly, barely a whisper.

"Psychic paper?" Martha repeated loudly, disbelieving.

"Eh…um," the Doctor tucked it back into his pocket, then rested both hands back on Rose's shoulders. "Long story."

"Psychic," Shakespeare repeated, comfortably, "never heard that before, words of my trade. Who are you exactly?" he leaned forward a little, "And more to the point, who is your luscious golden goddess?"

"Wha'?" Rose asked a little dumbly, looking left at Martha with raised eyebrows. Martha bit her lip, raising her eyebrows back at Rose. The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Oops, you aren't really a Dame now, are you? They are hardly a Dame's clothing, and your lips are too ripe, eyes too bright, to have suffered at the boredom such a title bestows."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Rose muttered over her shoulder.

"We're…from a far off land. Freedonia," the Doctor spluttered, his hands gripping Rose's shoulders tightly as he said it.

Rose was, frankly, amazed. Here they were, _the_ Shakespeare in front of them, and hitting on her no less, and the Doctor was lost for a creative answer. First time for everything.

Before Shakespeare could continue (and Rose felt as though the intensity of his eyes were going to melt her clothes right off), a man burst into the room.

"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment," he came to a stop. The Doctor, Rose and Martha turned to the newcomer. He was wearing your typical Elizabethan ruff and hose, quite rotund, his shape heightened by his apparent anger at Shakespeare. The blonde publican woman was back, with another pretty brunette maid, both rushing up behind him. The publican threw up her hands, as though to say _I tried to stop him._

"This is abominable behaviour," the man grated. "A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As master of the revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

"Lovely to see you too, Mr Lindley," Shakespeare intoned, tapping a quill on his desk, turning slightly on his chair. He didn't seem all that concerned about this red-faced man. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it round."

"I don't work to your schedule," Lindley spluttered. "You work to mine. The script, now!" he demanded.

"I can't!" Shakespeare locked Lindley's eyes.

"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled," Lindley sniffed, nose in the air.

"It's all go around here, isn't it?" Martha commented to Rose.

"I'm returning to my office for a banning order," Lindley continued. "If it's the last thing I do, _Love's Labour's Won_ will never be played!"

With that, he stormed out.

The publican and the brunette maid stepped in after he'd gone.

"I know! I know, William. He just got past me this time."

"Dolly it's not your fault, never your fault," Shakespeare returned warmly.

Dolly, the publican, grinned back at Shakespeare and then at Martha, the Doctor and Rose. "Thought you might like some drinks, anywho. C'mon Lilith," she waved the brunette maid forward. Rose noticed now she was carrying a tray with four tankards on it.

Martha took a mug with a thank you, then, "I guess the mystery's solved, that's _Love's Labour's Won_ over and done with," to the Doctor. "I thought it might be something more…mysterious."

Rose took the tankard that was offered her, shrugging. "It's not always _Scooby Doo_ with us—"

At that very moment, as if on cue, there was a scream from outside.

Rose's head snapped to the Doctor. He was already half-way out the door. Rose dashed out after him, Martha and Shakespeare hot on their heels.

"Okay, maybe it is," she called back to Martha.

* * *

They raced down the stairs. The main room had thinned of patrons; those few left were blearily looking out the windows for the source of the screams.

Rose stopped next to the Doctor outside.

Martha was next to them a moment later. "It's that Lindley bloke!" she pointed.

Rose fought down horror at the sight of the Master of Revels, Mr Lindley, staggering along, clutching at his throat and vomiting copiously.

"What's wrong with him?" the Doctor asked, head askew, before anyone else could ask the same. Shakespeare joined them; Rose saw the genuine confusion in his eyes as he spied the man lurching down the street.

Mr Lindley collapsed.

The three travellers hurried to the collapsed man's side. "Leave it to me I'm a doctor," the Doctor announced to the passers by.

"So am I…near enough," Martha knelt down next to him, putting her ear to his chest.

Rose stood back, watching the Doctor and Martha crouched over the man, hands together almost in prayer at her mouth.

But he'd been...bewitched.

* * *

Rose considered Mr Lindley's poor, shocked face again, once they were back in Shakespeare's room. It was all so quick, so sudden. One minute he'd been walking, talking, living. Sure, he was being a bit of an arse to Shakespeare at the time, but why would – and how could – _witchcraft_, as the Doctor had told them, have made a man drown? Causing so much attention?

The Doctor was rubbing his temples, as though he had a headache, or at least felt one coming on. Martha was blinking, a little lost, probably coming to the realisation that she really was in 1599 London and going a bit numb from the strange death, Rose thought, rubbing her eyes. Shakespeare sank into his chair.

Dolly had followed them in. "I got you all rooms," she told the Doctor, Martha and Rose, somewhat blankly. "You three are just across the landing in ten, twelve an' fourteen."

Shakespeare sighed. "Poor Lindley. So many strange events," his eyes roved between Rose and Martha. "…and least of all this land of Freedonia, where a woman can be a doctor?"

"Where a woman can do what she likes," Martha corrected, leaning against the wall.

"And you two. Sir Doctor, Dame Rose. How can two so young have eyes so old?"

Rose looked at the Doctor to reply.

He was eyeing off Shakespeare, "I do a lot of reading."

"A trite reply, yeah?" Shakespeare nodded knowingly. "That's what I do," he focussed in on Rose again. "But what of you, Dame Rose?"

Rose broke Shakespeare's gaze, feeling nervous.

"You look at him like you're both enamoured and afraid in the one moment. Is he really so terrible?"

"I think we should say good night," Martha spoke quickly, looking a little cross as she walked out of the room.

"I must work," Shakespeare changed his tune immediately. "I have a play to complete."

Rose started to leave. The Doctor was behind her.

"I'll get my answers tomorrow," Shakespeare told them both. Rose turned back. "And I'll discover more about you two and why this constant performance of yours," he waved his quill back and forth between them.

"All the world's a stage," the Doctor replied dryly.

"Hmm," Shakespeare considered. "I might use that. Good night."

"Nighty night Shakespeare," the Doctor closed the door after them as they left.

"D'you get the feelin' he knows about us, where we're from?" Rose asked as they strolled towards rooms twelve and fourteen.

"Why would you say that?" the Doctor shrugged, smirking at Rose, leaning on the side of door twelve.

Rose smiled inwardly a little, even though the mood Shakespeare had created and Mr Lindley's death was tugging at her. Never telling her what he thought, always making her come to her own conclusions. "T's jus'…my mum. She said..." Rose wasn't sure if she should be saying this.

"She told me, I'd started to look like you," she looked away from the Doctor, embarrassed, leaning her back against the room twelve door. The Doctor shifted a little in the corner of her eye and she heard him sigh, though not out of impatience...there was something else there.

"Last time we were at the estate, she told me tha'. An' then 'im in there," Rose nodded back to Shakespeare's room. "About our eyes, lookin' old. Not jus' yours, or mine; ours. Like, we seen the same things. The same pain, an' stuff. Like he _knows_." Rose cut herself off, shaking herself inwardly. If she continued down this path, she'd be in tears very shortly.

She looked back up to the Doctor. His eyes were a little misted, but locked onto hers and sparkling, an odd mixture of wonder and grief. Is that how her eyes looked to Shakespeare, and had looked to her mum?

"Well, we have seen a lot of the same stuff," the Doctor spoke quietly, smiling, reaching out for Rose's hand. She took his offered hand, gripping his fingers, smiling back. It warmed her soul a little.

The Doctor's coat slipped a bit off her right shoulder and Rose suddenly remembered it.

"Oh, sorry, here," she moved to take it off.

The Doctor stepped back nodding. "No no, it's all right, keep it for now, you'll need it more than I will," he opened the door to room twelve, holding it open for Rose.

Rose shrugged the large, warm brown coat back on, inwardly grateful. The hoodie, still tied around her waist, wasn't exactly built for cold nights. "Thanks, it's righ' freezing," she stepped into the room. It was dark, a single candle by the bedside, a grimy window letting in very little moonlight.

"It's not exactly--" Rose turned back, and didn't realise that the Doctor had followed her into the room. Oh. Okay. Not done talking. She must be in room fourteen. It's not like they'd taken dibs on the rooms or anything--

He closed the door. His eyes had a faraway look to them, "There's something I'm missing, Rose," he walked to the window, looking out it, a bit frustrated. "There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that, not without a generator…" He moved away from the window and flopped down on the bed in the middle of the room.

Rose sat next to him, tucking some hair behind her ear. "You mean this witchcraft stuff?" she asked unsurely.

"Hmm? Yes, of course," he said hurriedly, crossing his arms, head against the headboard. "Looks like witchcraft but it isn't. Can't be," he crossed his brows.

"'Course not," Rose agreed, again unsure in the back of her mind. Anything was possible, as she'd been shown, people just knew them by different names. _A rose by any other name would smell as sweet…_she smiled. Poor Mickey. Rose shook herself, wondering if all this Shakespearian atmosphere was getting to her.

"And I would have spotted a generator," he turned, concerned, to face Rose. "No. It's something else. Something _really_ close," he mused. Rose turned to him. Their faces were inches apart. Rose could feel his warm breath on her lips.

"Staring me right in the face and I can't see it," he said quietly, questing Rose's eyes for answers.

Rose hit him on the shoulder playfully. "I'm starin' you righ' in the face," she tried to bring him back from his reverie, though her heart was racing from the depth of meaning his words had been carrying. "Stop focussin' so hard on th' problem."

The Doctor crossed his brows a little, a smirk developing. Rose had done her job; he was mentally back in the room now.

"And what, just sit and wait to see what happens?" he somewhat laughed, still softly. "I'll stay with patience; but the time is long."

Rose laughed now too, rising to the game. "Then let us teach our trial patience, because it is a customary cross," she told him cheekily.

The pride was back in his eyes as he grinned now, "Aww, don't tell me, Rose Tyler, that you have a repository of Shakespeare in that head of yours and I've only just found out about it?"

Rose continued to laugh, looking sideways at him, "Nah! Jus' Midsummer. We did it in school, when I was a kid."

"Who did you play?" the Doctor asked eagerly, his head propped up on his hand.

Rose sighed. "The poor, forgotten Helena," she dramatically put the back of her hand to her forehead then grinned. "I only went for it because the fella playing Demitrius was _hot_. Oh, _god_, that feels like a lifetime ago!" she reminisced.

"The truth comes out," the Doctor's eyes widened in joke conspiracy. "It wasn't Mickey was it?"

"No!" Rose hit the Doctor on the arm again and they both laughed. "Though, Mickey tried 'is best on me with a couple of one liners he sort of borrowed," she remembered fondly, rolling her eyes.

The Doctor smiled, his eyes sparkling; "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, am I right?" he trailed off.

Rose was a bit shocked that the Doctor had guessed it, particularly since she'd just thought the same phrase. She shook her head, "See, he's jus' _that_ predictable, I mean, wha' does that even mean?" laughing again.

"Names, prejudice," the Doctor shrugged, "Poor Juliet had just fallen in love with her enemy," he continued. Rose realised he actually was going to give her an analysis of that phrase. She'd asked the question rhetorically!

"And she has some rather _powerful_, desperate thoughts," the Doctor went on, "asking the universe why Romeo must be called Romeo, was it the name that defined the man, or the man who defined himself? See, Rose, Juliet neglected the power of that name, Montague. And…well, I don't want to spoil the ending for you," he joked.

Rose smiled, despite the sadness in the tale he was retelling. He was happy, too, explaining something, rather than pondering over the unknown mystery that had urged them to stay in Shakespeare's time. "Why would he have said that to me, then?" she asked, wondering herself. "Doesn' sound hardly like a pick up line when you say it like that."

"I dunno," the Doctor accepted, smiling back at Rose. "People say and do silly things when they're enamoured."

"Like magic," Rose raised her eyebrows at him.

"Well, no," he reconsidered, the professor tone back, "not magic, really. Just chemicals firing in the brain at the right time."

Rose preferred to think of it as magic, and gave the Doctor a derisive look, now also turning to face him, resting her head on her hand. They were mirrors to each other. "You make it sound more like a science experiment than something with thought behind it. I think he was jus' tryin' to be sweet. You're driven by your emotions as much as the next man, an' don' try tell me you're not!" she dared him.

The Doctor seemed to think of this as some sort of fun challenge, because he raised an eyebrow and; "The sad truth is, Rose, that most actions of the entire galaxy, whether large or small, love or war, have been emotionally driven, and emotions after all are just endorphins. Once one learns that, they can take precautions against--"

Rose suddenly leaned forward the couple of inches and closed the gap between their mouths, stopping the Doctor mid sentence. She felt him freeze, as she kissed him. She looked into his eyes. He was staring straight back, eyes wide with shock, yet burning with an ache, a longing, and a struggle. She smiled on his lips to herself as she felt him start to relax, and deepened the kiss. His hand found her upper waist, under the big coat, gripped her side, shaking a little. Rose raised her outside hand to his cheek.

"Ahh-hh," the spell was broken; the Doctor pulled back. Rose startled. "Your fingers, they're icicles!" he managed to choke, clearing his throat, turning to sit on the side of the bed. "And," he looked confused, spluttering almost, "You kissed me!"

Rose's heart was racing, as she wondered if he'd leave or throw her out. She exhaled quietly, as the Doctor turned to stare at her. Then smiled knowingly. There were times when she'd think of the perfect answer to one of the Doctor's questions, days after he'd asked them. This time was different.

"C'mon then, you tell me. Genetic transfer, or magic?" she asked cheekily.

He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, but before he could answer, they were interrupted by a scream.

* * *

The Doctor jumped to action immediately. Rose rolled over, but with the Doctor's coat on, got tangled up and fell out of the bed onto her knees.

_Ouch!_

She pulled herself together, rushing out into the hallway, and almost running into Martha.

"What _was_ that?" Martha called quickly.

"I dunno, but I think it was in Shakespeare's room!" Rose hurried after the Doctor's receding form and into the room at the end of the hall.

Shakespeare woke as they stumbled into the room, lifting his head with a snap from the table. "What? What was that?"

Rose covered her mouth, looking down at the lifeless form of Dolly, the publican. The Doctor crouched down next to her and checked her over.

Martha dashed past them and to the window.

"Is…is she all right?" Rose swallowed hopefully.

"Her heart gave out. She died of fright," the Doctor stood gravely.

"Doctor," Martha called from the windowsill.

"What did you see?" he hurried to Martha's side, poking his head out the window and scanning the skies.

"A witch," Martha announced.

* * *

Nobody could sleep after Dolly Bailey's death. The Doctor, Shakespeare, Martha and Rose had stayed in Shakespeare's room, the Doctor distracted all the while. After a typical deliberation session that took an alarmingly winding path, Shakespeare had brought up Peter Street; the Globe's architect. He'd also spoken of witches, just like Martha.

The Doctor's train of thought must have hit something at that point. He'd leaped up and told them they were going to the Globe, right away.

"Columns there…right…fourteen sides," the Doctor paced. "I've always wondered but I've never asked, tell me Will, why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Street thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well," Shakespeare shrugged.

"Fourteen…why does that ring a bell? Fourteen…" the Doctor was pacing again, running his hand through his hair.

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet?" Martha offered from the stage.

"So there is. Good point," the Doctor nodded, raising his eyebrows. "Words and shapes, following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets," he was pacing again. "Oh my head. Tetradecagon…think think think, words, letters, number, lines!" he barked, as though trying to form order from some chaos in his mind.

"This is just the theatre," Shakespeare had tried to reason.

"Bu' it's not jus' the theatre," Rose, also on the stage, turned to Shakespeare. "I heard you last nigh', talkin' to the crowd. There was a buzz in the air, I felt it."

"That's right, say the right words at the right emphasis at the right time!" the Doctor continued. "Oh, you could make men weep," he leaned on the stage. "Or cry with joy. Change the wor…" he trailed off.

"You can change people's minds just with words in this place. And if you exaggerate that…" he had that faraway look in his eyes again. "Peter Street would know," he deduced. "Can I talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer," Shakespeare said sadly. "Month after finishing this place, lost his mind."

"Why what happened?" Martha asked quickly.

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. The mind was addled," Shakespeare replied.

"Where's he now?" the Doctor fired.

"Bedlam."

"Wha's bedlam?" Rose asked this time.

Shakespeare looked a bit taken back by all the questions from all sides. "Bethlam Hospital. The madhouse," he said with significance.

"We gotta go there, right now. C'mon," the Doctor took off towards the entrance.

* * *

The Doctor had charged ahead, not waiting for Martha, Shakespeare or Rose.

Shakespeare came along side Rose. "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors," he nodded to Martha, "writers, actors."

"This country's ruled by a woman," Rose pointed out.

"Ah she's royal, that's God's business, though," he stopped Rose with a hand on the arm, turning to her fully, "you are a royal beauty," he finished.

"Whoa…down boy!" Martha stepped next to Rose, hooking arms with her in a protective sort of gesture. "I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"But this is _town_," Shakespeare started, laughing.

"_C'mon_, we can have a good flirt later," the Doctor appeared angry, and had charged back to them.

"That a promise Doctor?" Shakespeare called out.

The Doctor looked exasperated a moment, then continued forward, muttering something about academics punching the air, and barking a final, "Move!"

Rose shook her head at Martha, "I thought ol' Will'd get a slap for that one."

* * *

Bethlam was a dark, dank and miserable place. Rose tried not to gag at the smells, and noticed immediately how tense Martha was, eyeing off the hospital in almost horror, arguing with Shakespeare about the state of the place and how anyone could possibly heal _here_.

The Doctor on the other hand didn't say much and just looked even angrier.

A cruel looking guard had led them to Peter Street's cell. The man had seemed…no longer a man, more a monster. He was hunched over, shuddering, with lost, alien green eyes.

Then the Doctor had done something. Rose wasn't too sure what; he'd taken Peter's head in his hands, and convinced him calmly to tell his story.

"Witches," Peter had said shakily. "Spoke to Peter. In the night. They whisper. Whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design. The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done," he barked a tortured laugh that made Rose jump. "They snapped poor Peter's wits."

"But where did Peter see the witches, where in the city?" the Doctor asked. "Peter tell me, you've got to tell me, where were they?"

"All Hallows Street," he replied thickly.

"Too many words!" a cackling voice cried in the cell.

_Everyone_ jumped back. There was a witch, in the cell with them.

The witch had killed Peter. Killed him, dead, with a touch of the hand. It had been terrible, Rose reflected. That man, he'd been so tortured by them, used by them, and they'd just…flicked him away, like a bug.

Once faced with the foe, the Doctor had discovered the identity of those Martha had named witches.

They were Carrionites.

The Doctor had bellowed this name, pointing at the witch, and she'd screamed and disappeared. It was the power of the name, he'd told them, later. Carrionites used words to manipulate everything; the power of a name was ultimate.

Back at the Elephant, there had been more revelations; the Carrionites had been using Shakespeare, just as they'd used Peter. They'd used his words, to manipulate their machinations.

At this, the Doctor had gotten really excited, babbling about the shape of the globe, and _Love's Labour's Won_. They split up; Martha and Shakespeare to stop the play; Rose and the Doctor to find the Carrionites.

The Doctor seemed to be full of energy and life again, now he knew what he was up against.

* * *

"I take it we're expected," the Doctor strolled into the main room of the witches' house. Rose hurried to the landing behind him and did a double take.

"But you're…" she stopped herself.

The brunette maid from the Elephant had grinned. "Oh I think death has been waiting for you a very long time," she nodded to the pair of them.

"Right then. It's my turn," Rose stepped forward. She'd been protected by the Doctor and even Martha on this trip; it was her turn to do some work. "I name thee – Carrionite!" she fired.

Lilith laughed.

Rose turned back to the Doctor in bewilderment. "It didn't work!"

"Power of a name works only once," Lilith snapped. "Observe," she pointed at Rose. Rose subconsciously stepped back a little. The Doctor gripped her shoulder.

"The heart grows cold, the north wind blows, and carries down the distant...Rose!" Lilith said cheekily.

Rose's legs suddenly felt like they were made of jelly, and she crumbled to the floor, wondering how that had worked.

The last thing she heard was the Doctor's distressed scream at Lilith as he caught her; "What have you done!"

Then the world was black.

* * *

When Rose came to, trying to force herself to remember where she was, she noticed the Doctor, lying on the floor, hurt.

"Oh my god, Doctor," she hurried to his side, picked his head up off the ground and put it in her lap. "Don't worry. I've got you," she fussed, feeling his neck for a pulse.

The Doctor hissed, making Rose jump out of her skin.

"Oh! Remind me to buy you some gloves, _really_ -- icicles!" he stood, and Rose laughed with relief.

"Ah!" the Doctor began to fall in pain. Rose caught him.

"I've only got one heart working," he breathed heavily. "How do you cope?" in complete wonder.

After a couple of strategic hits to the chest and the back, the second heart was away again and the Doctor bounced; "C'mon. Let's go!"

They raced to the Globe. But they were too late. Rose rounded a corner. There was no missing the bright red clouds, billowing out of the Globe theatre. The Doctor stopped next to her, grimacing.

"Stage door!" he muttered.

They were off again. Through the gawping people, dashing past the agog stage hands, through the back entrance. He found Martha and Shakespeare so quickly, Rose wondered if he had homing beacons on them.

"Stop the play," the Doctor said to Shakespeare and Martha in an accusing tone, "I think that was it, yeah, I said stop the play!"

"Somethin' out there stopped him!" Martha defended, sitting next to him, holding a flannel to his forehead.

"I hit my head," Shakespeare groaned.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald," the Doctor muttered as there was the sound of screams from the stage. "I think that's my cue!" he was off again.

"C'mon," Rose helped Shakespeare to his feet, nodding to Martha. "We gotta get out there an' help him."

Martha grabbed Shakespeare's other arm without a word.

"But what can I do?" Shakespeare looked oddly at Rose as they came onstage.

"Reverse it!" the Doctor cried over the noise.

Rose looked up and gulped. In the rafters, there were three witches, Lilith in the middle, cackling madly. The red clouds were sparking lightning intensely, as hundreds – thousands – of black spectres flew out of their crystal ball, up in a spiral.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Shakespeare looked up at the madness, sounding meek.

"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith," the Doctor held Shakespeare by the front of his shirt. "The one true genius, the only man clever enough to do it!" letting him go.

"But what words, I have none ready!"

"You're William Shakespeare!" Rose reminded him.

"But these Carrionite spectres, they need such precision!" Shakespeare had moaned.

"Trust yourself."

After some more words of wisdom from the Doctor, Shakespeare seemed to have collected enough courage to face the audience of insane black spectres.

"Close up this din of hateful dire decay. Decomposition of your wits is blocked. You thieved my brains, considered me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!" he cried into the gloom.

Rose and Martha held each other's arms, grinning and jumping, watching as the effect of Shakespeare's words began to change the colour of the clouds. The witches in the rafters looked troubled.

"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show, between the points…" Shakespeare faltered, looking to the Doctor.

"Seven - six - one - three - nine - oh!" he prompted.

"Seven, six, one, three, nine, oh. Banish this life and take its cause. I say to thee…" he turned back to the Doctor again in a slight desperation.

"Uh…" the Doctor looked to Rose and Martha quickly.

"Expelliarmus!" Martha cried.

"Expelliarmus!" the Doctor laughed.

"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare echoed.

"Good old JK!" Rose cheered.

The frightful spectres, the red clouds, lightning, everything, started spiralling away in a tornado, getting smaller and smaller.

"_Love's Labour's Won_. There it goes," the Doctor spoke from Rose's side.

Sure enough, there were pages and pages of paper in the spiralling mess. In a moment, the tornado spun in on itself, as though being sucked into a vortex, and all was quiet at the Globe.

The crowd started clapping, and then cheering, wild in an energised cacophony.

"They think it was special effects," Rose said out of the corner of her mouth, as she noticed the Doctor dash off stage. She moved to hurry after him.

Shakespeare grabbed her hand. "Your effect is special indeed."

Rose laughed. "It's not your best line."

And with that, she ran after the Doctor, leaving Martha on stage to bow with Shakespeare and the other actors.

She found him upstairs, in the rafters, holding a crystal ball. She peeked over his shoulder at it.

"Are they safe in there?"

The three Carrionites, including Lilith were trapped inside, banging on the glass to be let out.

"Hmm?" the Doctor had been pondering the crystal, and noticed Rose for the first time behind him. "Ah, yes. I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity," he tucked the crystal ball under one arm, and put his other around Rose as they headed back down to the stage.

* * *

It was nearly time to leave. The Doctor had been messing about out the back of the Globe. Rose and Martha were sitting on the stage with Shakespeare.

"And I say, a heart for a heart, a deer for a deer," Shakespeare laughed at his own joke.

Rose raised her eyebrows at Martha.

"I don't get it either," Martha shook her head.

The Doctor had walked on stage at that moment, carrying all manner of junk. Rose laughed at him, wearing a white ruff around his neck.

"Good prop store back there," he said cheerfully. "Not sure about this though," he showed them a skull he'd found, frowning at Rose. "What do you think, Rose - Sycorax?"

Rose shuddered a little at the offered skull. It certainly did look like it.

Before Rose could answer; "Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well," Shakespeare answered.

"I should be on ten percent. How's your head?" the Doctor turned away, putting most of the props down.

"Still aching," he moaned.

"Here, I got you this," the Doctor took the ruff from his neck, and placed it around Shakespeare's. "Wear that for a few days til it's better, although, you might want to keep it. Suits you."

Rose stifled a laugh, "What about the play?"

"Gone," the Doctor said quickly. "I looked all over. Every single copy of _Love's Labour's Won_ went to the sky."

"You can write it up again," Martha said encouragingly.

"Yeah, better not, Will," the Doctor scrunched up his nose. "There's still power in those words. Best stay forgotten."

"Oh but I've got no ideas," Shakespeare shook his head. "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."

"Hamnet?" Martha repeated.

"That's him."

"Ham_net_?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway," the Doctor intervened, nodding to Rose "time we were off and you," he nodded to Martha, "went back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space," Shakespeare laughed as the girls rose.

"You…what?" the Doctor asked uncertainly, scratching behind his ear.

"You're from another world like the Carrionites," Shakespeare blinked confidently. "Martha and Rose here are from the future. It's not hard to work out."

Rose watched the Doctor for a reaction in stunned silence. So, he _did_ know about them…

"That's…" the Doctor was in awe. "Incredible. You're incredible."

"We're alike in many ways doctor – " Shakespeare stared.

And was cut off by the excited noises of two of the stagehands. "Will! You'll never believe it She's here! She's turned up!"

"Who?" Martha asked them.

"Her Majesty, she's here!" the second stage hand announced.

Through the entrance walked many guards and a woman in a large, ornate dress with white skin-

"Queen Elizabeth the First!" the Doctor grinned.

Queen Elizabeth stopped in her tracks when she saw them "Doctor!" she spluttered. "And Rose Tyler!"

"What?" Rose looked at the Doctor. They'd never met her before, had they?

"My sworn enemies!" she grated.

"What?" the Doctor looked at Rose now, confused as well.

"Off with their heads!"

"What?!" Rose and the Doctor asked at the same moment.

"Well never mind what, just run!" Martha grabbed both their hands and they dashed out the back entrance.

Queen Elizabeth was issuing orders to her guards as they ran back toward the TARDIS.

"What did you do to upset her?" Martha asked as they ran for it.

"No idea!" Rose confessed.

"Haven't met her yet," the Doctor announced. "That's time travel for you. Still, can't wait to find out," he waggled his eyebrows at Rose as he unlocked the TARDIS. Martha and Rose barrelled inside. "That's something to look forward to."

The Doctor slammed the TARDIS door closed. The dull sounds of arrows hitting it from the outside could be heard.

* * *

_...The next episode is Gridlock…  
_

* * *


	5. Episode 3: Mental Gridlock

**_Mental GRIDLOCK_**

_Really hard episode to write - harder than I thought it would be. In the end, I focussed on the Doctor's past rather than the plight of New Earth...so the renaming, to mental gridlock, indicating how they keep getting stuck on the subject the Doctor most doesn't want to discuss...  
Thank you to all who've reviewed! _

* * *

Martha and Rose sat on the seat by the console, Rose with a cup of tea, and Marta with her arms crossed. Both were laughing at the Doctor.

He was in a very good mood.

"Just one trip. 'S'what I said," he grinned at the pair. "One trip, in the TARDIS, and then home, an' look at what happened? Saved the world."

"Yet again!" Rose chimed in chirpily.

"How many times is that?" Martha laughed.

"Oh," Rose waved her hand, "too many to count--!"

"Five hundred and forty-three," the Doctor announced proudly, turning a dial with the flick of his wrist.

"But," Martha's exited tone dropped slightly. Both the Doctor and Rose turned to her questioningly.

She smiled a little sadly. "Does it _really_ have to be just one trip? Can't we go somewhere else? Like," she hurried, before the Doctor could interrupt, "a trip to the future!" she fired. "Or, a different planet! Something _really_ special!"

Rose eyed the Doctor. She liked Martha. She really did, she was fun. But she also missed it, when it had just been the two of them. She shook herself. It wouldn't do, being selfish. The universe was too special, it should be shared.

The Doctor stared back at Rose a moment.

"Well--" he turned away.

"What about," Martha fired, quickly again, "your planet!" to the Doctor. "I mean, what's it like, Rose?" Martha was still grinning, and nudged Rose on the arm. "Planet of the Time Lords, that's got to be worth a look!"

Rose froze. _Oh, God, why didn't I warn her about that?_

The Doctor seemed to take a physical blow, though Martha didn't seem to notice the change, grinning still. Rose noticed his urgent attention on something in the middle of the console, the blue buzz of his sonic screwdriver punctuating his silence.

"One trip, Martha," he reiterated, the genuine enthusiasm gone from his voice, to be replaced by something slightly like forced cheer.

"Aw, c'mon!" she egged on. "Can't be that bad! Is it like, you know, outer space cities, all spires and stuff?" Martha asked eagerly.

"Mm, yeah. More tea, anyone, I'm out?" Rose stood, brandishing her empty mug as a pathetic excuse to change the subject.

The Doctor turned to them both, finally. His face was a blank mask, but his eyes, Rose noticed, were looking old again, older than before.

"One trip, Martha," he repeated, more quietly.

* * *

They'd dropped off the slightly confused Martha Jones inside her apartment. Rose gave Martha her mobile number, so they could text and talk and keep in touch.

She wasn't sure if she was happy or sad to see Martha go. The girl had seemed quite taken back by the Doctor's sudden switch in mood, and Rose hadn't had a moment to explain it to her. It was a long story, Rose hardly knew any of it, and there just wasn't time.

"Besides," Rose tried a laugh, her eyes somewhat misting as she spoke. "You got a family that depends on ya. Don't take 'em for granted, yeah?"

With that, Martha Jones had left the TARDIS.

* * *

The mood in the TARDIS was sombre as Rose took the Doctor a cup of tea. He was fiddling again with some wires and circuit boards as they hovered in the vortex, as they had been doing for a couple of hours now, 'making repairs'. He'd been forcefully chirpy; answering questions with bright, one-syllable responses.

Rose couldn't take it much longer.

"So," she handed him a cuppa as a pre-emptive peace offering. "Martha's gone."

"Thanks, just what I needed," the Doctor took the mug, and a sip.

Rose stared at him, trying to get him to make eye contact.

"Martha," she repeated. "Because she mentioned Gallifrey."

The Doctor looked away from Rose in a frustrated turn of the head, quite obviously not wanting to discuss it.

Rose huffed a bit of a laugh, and put a hand on his cheek, making him turn back to look at her. She expected him to resist, but he didn't; she was surprised to find his face lean into her hand for comfort. He looked so worn, so suddenly.

"Y'know," she forced a smile, though it turned into more of a frown. "After Torchwood, I never wanted to go back to London. Lost everythin' - every_one_," she repeated, making sure her voice stayed steady. "But we went. For Donna, for Martha – whatever reason."

The Doctor's eyes softened a little.

"There's no avoidin' my past, even in the future," she shrugged. "An' it wasn't fair of me anyway," she continued, looking toward the TARDIS console, dropping her hand. She didn't trust herself to keep looking into his eyes like that, "to try stop us from goin' back. I made my choice," she nodded definitely. "An' I live with it. 'm happy with it," she confirmed. Her eyes shone.

"Rose," the Doctor spoke quietly. "I'm so sorry. But if…if Gallifrey is what you want - we can't – I can't--"

"'s not," Rose smiled back up at him, nodding. Trying to force herself to stay bright. It was alarming how much reminiscing about the battle of Canary Wharf still hurt.

"I don't mind," she tried a laugh, continuing. "It's probably breakin' some Time Lord law to go back," she continued. "But Martha didn't know what I know," she stressed. "An'…you jus' dropped her off," she tried to stop the tears that were welling dangerously. She shook her head.

"I said one trip," the Doctor reasoned quietly, but not without finality. "She knew that. You knew that. I thought--" he paused, his voice suddenly thicker.

Rose nodded, again, smiling to keep from bawling, making herself understand, and trust, his decision. Though, while she felt bad for Martha, the thought that the Doctor would drop her off, for discussing his home planet, made Rose remember how alone she would be on Earth if all of this, for whatever reason, came to an end as suddenly as Martha's journey through time and space had.

The Doctor cleared his throat, shifting as though he'd come to some quick decision, so he was leaning on the console, just like Rose.

He put his arm around her. She leaned on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

They stayed that way, in silence, for a couple of minutes.

Then; "It was just so beautiful," he spoke quietly, exhaling loudly.

Rose froze.

"'s all righ'," Rose said quietly again, turning to look up at him. She was about to suggest they dock at Florana, like they'd originally planned when--

"The sky's a burnt orange," he continued, as though he'd not heard her. Rose saw the faraway look in his eyes, a look filled with so much passion, grief, hope…and she stayed quiet.

"With the Citadel enclosed in a mighty glass dome, shining under the twin suns. Beyond that, the mountains go on forever – slopes of deep red grass, capped with snow."

Rose was caught up in the moment, with a shiver. She closed her eyes, trying to picture a red-grassed landscape, swaying in the breeze…

"The second sun would rise in the south, and the mountains would shine," the Doctor retold, wonder and longing in his voice. "The leaves on the trees were silver, and when they caught the light every morning, it looked like a forest on fire. When the autumn came, the breeze would blow through the branches like a song."

Rose felt chills down her spine at this intimate knowledge of his homeworld.

"It sounds beautiful," she breathed. "I'm…so sorry, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled sadly, then jostled her a little with the arm around her shoulder. "That's my line."

Rose laughed quickly, turning her head down. After a moment; "So, where do we go now?"

The Doctor inhaled, considering a moment. "A break. From your world and mine," he released Rose and skipped to the other side of the console, flicking switches. Rose watched his sunny exterior, understanding the mystery of the Doctor a little more, finally.

"So…where?" Rose asked again, tucking her hair behind her ears.

He tweaked some settings, smiling up at her. "What do you say, Rose Tyler, fancy another stroll around New Earth?"

Rose smiled back, raising her eyebrows. "Again?" she watched him, waiting for some sort of explanation.

The Doctor pointedly ignored her look for a moment, seemingly distracted by the console. When he did look up to her; "Oh! I'm sorry, didn't I mention this?" he pulled the psychic paper out of his pocket, flashing it in Rose's direction.

"_**MY TIME IS UP**_" wrote itself in black capitals across the usually blank paper.

Rose sobered. She glanced from the psychic paper to the Doctor worriedly.

The last person who'd done that had been the Face of Boe.

* * *

What a disaster, Rose thought, dashing into the senate room. There were skeletons on the ground, but Rose didn't notice them. Her mind was occupied by an urgency to find the alien that had saved them. The Face of Boe. One of the first aliens she'd ever encountered, on her first trip in the TARDIS, was dying.

It had been a hell of a mission getting to him today.

First, she and the Doctor had been split up. By a pair of desperate newlyweds, snatching her from the streets to join 'the fast lane'.

_I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. We just need three, that's all._

_No, let her go! I'm warning you, let her go! Whatever you want, I can help. Both of us, we can help. But first you've got to let her go!_

_I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Sorry._

And then…

Rose shuddered. The next time the Doctor suggested a stroll around New New York, she'd slap him.

She doubted he'd suggest it again. The only reason they'd come was—

Rose rounded a corner, seeing the Doctor, crouched by the Face of Boe. Novice Hame, more grey whiskers than Rose remembered, was solemn by his side.

The joy of seeing the Doctor again after the struggle of the day fled Rose as she knelt by the Doctor's, and the Face of Boe's, side.

"He's the one that saved you, not me," the Doctor announced, reaching for, and quickly finding, Rose's hand. He gripped it tightly.

"My lord gave his life to save the city," Novice Hame announced gravely. "And now he's dying."

"No," Rose turned to the Doctor quickly, "don' say tha'. Not Boe. Plenty of life lef'."

"It's good to breathe the air once more," the Face of Boe relayed to all three of them telepathically.

Rose startled at the aching weariness in his mental projection. She frowned, wondering at such longevity, billions of years of life, coming to an end. It didn't seem right.

"Everything has its time," the Face of Boe returned. "You know that, old friend," to the Doctor "better than most."

"Don't. There's no need for this kind of talk," the Doctor spoke back, also telepathically. Rose was alarmed to feel his voice inside her head for the first time.

"It says that the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveller," Novice Hame spoke, knowingly.

"Yeah, but not yet," the Doctor cut her off, smiling hopefully at the Face of Boe, but squeezing Rose's hand again. "Who needs secrets, eh?"

"I have seen so much," if the Face of Boe was hearing the Doctor's replies to Novice Hame, he didn't seem to heed them. "Perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind — as you are the last of yours, Doctor."

Rose closed her eyes a moment as the Doctor's grip on her hand strengthened toward her pain threshold, then forced herself to watch. This was too important. The Doctor's eyes were so desperate. Even more desperate than they'd been, when he'd been trying to avoid talking about Gallifrey.

"That's why we have to survive. Both of us. Don't go," the Doctor begged.

After a long, aching pause; "I must. But know this, Time Lord,"

Rose gulped, gripping the Doctor's hand. What little strength she had left, she would give to him. It was the moment, the time, as Novice Hame had predicted, that was spoken of in legends. The Face of Boe, imparting his secret on a Lonely Angel.

"You are not alone," the Face of Boe droned in their minds.

Rose's head shot up as the Face of Boe's eyes closed. Her eyes snapped to the Doctor's.

He looked astounded. He stared, uncomprehending, at the now silent Face of Boe.

Rose unlaced her fingers from the Doctor's hand and wrapped both arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. After a moment, his arms wrapped around her back, his hands gripping fists of her hoodie, in what felt like fear.

Rose hadn't ever felt so afraid. The Doctor, speechless, unsure, and scared. She held him securely.

Behind them, the Novice Hame began to sob.

* * *

"You're not alone."

"Mm?" the Doctor rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, leaving behind a smudge of grease. He stuck his hands back into the belly of the TARDIS, lying on the grating floor to reach underneath. There was a hissing noise as a couple of cables touched each other.

Rose sat by the console. "That was his great, important secret," she pondered. "You're not alone."

"Yeah," the Doctor replied quickly. "Rose, could you pass me the mallet?"

Rose searched the console and passed down the rubber mallet, mulling over the Face of Boe's revelation still.

"What did he mean?" she wondered aloud.

The Doctor's silence was broken only by the 'bang-bang-bang!' of the mallet every couple of seconds.

"Couldn' have meant me," she continued, shrugging. Wondering if he'd reply with an 'of course, we have each other' comment that would break the intense mood that had settled since Gallifrey had been brought up.

The Doctor must have hit his head on the grating because he let out an "Ow!"; then, sitting up, "There we are, good as new!"

"So, 's not me," Rose raised her eyebrows, unimpressed, and turned away.

"Rose," the Doctor's voice deepened. It was his serious-voice. Rose turned back.

He looked so, so sad. "The Face of Boe was wrong. There's no one else."

"Bu' you can't be sure--" Rose started, a pleading note in her voice.

"I can," he replied quickly, quietly, definitely. "They're all gone now. My family, my friends, even that sky."

He sighed, eyes roving around the TARDIS for a moment.

"Anyway," he jumped up to his feet. "It's in the past. Can't take it back! So," he hung the mallet back in its place and grinned at Rose. "Back to what we're meant to be doing."

"What?" she asked, glad to see him smiling.

"Living," he raised his eyebrows, whispering for effect.

Rose grinned back at him across the TARDIS.

* * *

_...next episode, Daleks in Manhatten...  
_

* * *

  



	6. Episode 4: Daleks in Manhattan

DALEKS IN MANHATTAN

* * *

The TARDIS was parked by the Statue of Liberty. Rose laughed, looking out at the alien view – could she call it alien, since it was a part of her home world?

"Ah, smell that Atlantic breeze, nice and cold," the Doctor joined Rose, shouldering his coat. "Lovely."

Rose looked up to him. An excited glint had found its way into his eyes. She renewed her smile, tugging at his coat arm. "So…why…here?" she waved her hand at the skyline.

The Doctor shrugged, "Well, I figured," he started reasonably, "you've been to New New York twice, but never seen the genuine article, and it was about time, so," he made the same motion to the skyline Rose had made a moment earlier, "here we are. New York, New York! So good they named it twice," he smiled down at her fondly, then looked back to the skyline. "Mind you it was New Amsterdam originally," he considered, that far-off thoughtful look on his face suddenly. "Harder to say twice, no wonder it didn't catch on. New Amsterdam, New Amsterdam," he tested, still thoughtful. He shook his head.

Rose wrapped both her hands around his arm now, jumping a little in excitement. "Ooh, this is so brilliant," she surveyed the skyline, then craned her neck to observe the Statue of Liberty, behind and above them. "Mum always wanted to go to New York, we were plannin' to go, one day, if we ever had the money," she kept smiling. "I mean – jus' for the shoppin' of course!"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her, a smirk developing.

"What?" Rose leaned back a little, crossing her brows.

"Nothing," the Doctor spoke quickly and looked down, shaking his head, smirk still in place.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah, all righ', I get it, travel the world, jus' to buy clothes like a couple of thickos when there's _so much more_--" she teased.

"I didn't say anything!" the Doctor butted in, laughter in his voice.

"So, can we?" Rose said quickly, a cheeky smile in place. "Do some shoppin'? Y'know, jus' walk around like regular people an' shop?"

"Wonder what year it is?" The Doctor considered, pointedly changing the subject and clearing his throat. He pointed out in front of them. "Look, the Empire State Building's not even finished yet. Work in progress. Still got a couple of floors to go and if I know my history that makes the date somewhere around…oh, 1930?"

Rose had to shake her head a little and laugh, moving from his side back toward the TARDIS to grab her jacket. It was quite fresh in the breeze. "All righ' all righ', no shoppin', but you owe me," she spun back and pointed at him quickly. "Next place we go..." she considered a second, then; "Oxford street."

The Doctor cocked his head on the side. "The planet Oxford street? Never heard of it," he shrugged.

Rose laughed and dashed back into the TARDIS, grabbing her jacket. When she returned, locking the door behind her, the Doctor's eyes were worried. He was reading the front page of a newspaper.

"Where'd you get that from?" she stood beside him, craning to see what had taken his interest.

"Hmm? Oh," he shook the newspaper to straighten it out, moving a little so Rose could see the headline herself.

"November first, nineteen thirty," Rose read aloud then continued, "Hooverville Mystery Deepens?" she frowned at him. "What's Hooverville?"

The Doctor looked toward the skyline, squinting a little. "Rose, I think our detour just got longer."

* * *

The Doctor led them to Central Park. It reminded Rose of the parks in London, back home, only quite a bit larger. The Doctor didn't seem to take too much notice of his surrounds, a worried crease in his forehead as he explained to Rose;

"Herbert Hoover. Thirty-first president of the USA, came to power a year ago," he explained as they strolled. "Up until then, New York was a boom town, the roaring twenties, and then--?" he looked to Rose expectantly.

Rose shrugged. "…mutant…ninja turtles?"

He gave her a look, shaking his head. "The wall street crash," he finished.

"So-rry," Rose came back.

"Nineteen twenty nine," the Doctor continued, as though she'd not spoken, but gave her another look, not without cheek.

Who was he kidding? Rose knew he loved explaining this stuff to her.

"Whole economy wiped out overnight. Thousands of people unemployed. All of a sudden the huddled masses doubled in number with no where to go," he exhaled, hands in his pockets as he looked around the park. "So, they ended up here, in Central Park."

Rose looked up to him questioningly. They hadn't seen anyone who fitted the homeless look she was used to seeing. "What, they actually live in the park? In the middle of the city?"

The Doctor nodded ahead of them, quite sombrely.

Rose turned back. Ahead of them a little way, she could see a mass of tents and temporary housing. A gatepost hung over the place, proclaiming the area to be Hooverville. It was muddy, dank. Everything, including the people's faces as they got closer and Rose could make them out, reflected some shade of grey.

"Oh my god," Rose whispered, horror in her voice.

"Ordinary people," the Doctor lead Rose into Hooverville. "Lost their jobs. Couldn't pay the rent, they lost everything."

"Why doesn't anyone help them?" Rose asked quietly, innocently.

"There are places like this all over America, no ones helping them," the Doctor answered. "You only come to Hooverville when there's no where else to go."

Rose took the Doctor's arm, feeling somewhat depressed. They walked through the makeshift muddy streets. The desperation on some of the people's faces, the lack of light in some others that looked like weary acceptance, forced a lump into Rose's throat. What mystery of this place would the newspaper be printing – why such a place was allowed to exist? The mystery of why nobody was helping? Where was their government?

A fight broke out a way ahead of them and the Doctor started leading Rose in that direction.

"Cut that out! Cut it out!" a strong voice carried over the top of the argument. A black man in a flat cap was trying to break up the fight.

"He stole my bread!" one accused.

"That's enough!" the man insisted. He turned to the other man who'd been arguing. "Did you take it?"

"I don't know, he just went crazy!" a crack of desperation in his voice. He jumped on the first man again.

"That's _enough_!" the black man, who seemed to be in charge, broke them apart again. "Now think real careful before you lie to me."

The Doctor stopped, Rose stopped with him, hands still on his elbow. Rose looked up at him quickly; he was considering the fight, observing. Rose wondered why he wasn't helping, though the one breaking up the fight seemed to have it under control.

"I'm starving Solomon," one of the fighting men visually deflated, his shoulders sinking.

The mediator, Solomon, the man had called him, held out his hand with a glare, and without a word. The desperate man slowly handed over a loaf of bread from inside his coat.

"We all starving," Solomon grated, breaking the bread in half, and handing a half to each man. "We all got families somewhere. No stealing and no fighting, you know the rules," he pointed a finger at each man in turn, then looked up, addressing the crowd that had gathered. "Thirteen years ago, I fought in the great war. Lot of us did," there were murmurs of ascent from the crowd. "And the only reason we got through," he continued, "is because we _stuck together_. No matter how bad things get we still act like human beings! It's all we got."

With that, Solomon turned away, and the crowd began to dissipate.

The Doctor was still observing Solomon. "C'mon," he said lightly to Rose, stepping forward.

They stepped out.

"I suppose that makes you the boss around here," the Doctor asked when they were in earshot.

Solomon turned and looked the Doctor and Rose up and down. "And uh, who might you be?"

"He's the doctor, an' I'm Rose," Rose supplied with a smile.

"A doctor?" Solomon asked quickly, disbelief in his voice. The Doctor nodded. "Huh. Well. We got stock brokers," he pointed to a man in an old suit down a couple of tents in a chair, reading a newspaper. "We got a lawyer. But you're the first doctor," he shook his head, warming his hands over a fire. "Neighbourhood gets classier by the day," he joked.

"How many people live here?" Rose asked, frowning.

"Any one time?" Solomon frowned, shook his head. "Hundreds. No place else to go. But I will say this about Hooverville, we a truly equal society, black, white, men, women, all the same, all starving. So you're welcome, both of you," he finished, his eyebrows hard in a sort of scowl.

"But tell me, Doctor," he turned away from the fire. "You're a man of learning, right? Explain this to me," he pointed over the treetops. Rose could see the top of the Empire State Building, still in construction.

"That there's going to be the tallest building in the world," he told them both. "How come they can do _that_, and we got people starving in the heart of Manhattan?" he sounded unimpressed. Shook his head, and turned away from them, walking down the road.

They watched him go.

Rose turned back up to the Doctor. "You know, I was thinkin' the same thing?"

The Doctor's calculating look hadn't left his face since he'd entered Hooverville. Without acknowledging Rose's response, he started off after Solomon. Rose hurried to keep up.

Solomon had stopped by a tent that must have been his home. When they got there, he was emptying a metal jug of what looked like old tea.

"So, men going missing, is this true?" the Doctor held the newspaper with the headline they'd read earlier up.

Solomon's shoulders seemed to sink a little, as he took the paper. "It's true all right," he grumbled, then walked into his tent.

The Doctor followed him in. Rose stepped gingerly beside him, feeling odd about entering – did he even want to talk to them? He seemed to be the one keeping all these people's spirits up, but there was more to him, like he thought deep down it was hopeless, but some inner battle was making him fight.

"But what does missing mean?" the Doctor asked from just inside the tent. "I mean, people must come and go here all the time, not like anyone's keeping a register," he shrugged."

"C'mon in," Solomon sat, motioning them forward. "This is different."

"How?" Rose asked as she and the Doctor stepped forward. The Doctor took a seat by Solomon. Chills began to creep up Rose's spine at Solomon's tone.

"Someone takes them. At night," he pursed his lips. "We hear someone, someone calls out for help, by the time we've got there, they gone. Vanish into thin air," he shook his head.

"And you're sure someone's taking them?" the Doctor had his head resting on his chin.

Solomon shook his head, that futile laugh again. "Doctor, when you got next to nothing, you hold onto the little you've got," he looked up at Rose. She could understand that, and nodded very slightly.

"Knife, blanket, you take it with you," he explained to both of them. "You don't leave bread uneaten. The fire's still burning."

"Have you tried the police?" Rose asked quietly.

"Yeah, we tried that," he shrugged. "If a deadbeat goes missing, big deal."

"So the question is, who's taking them, and what for?" the Doctor sighed loudly.

Before either the Solomon or the Doctor could speculate further, a young man burst into the tent.

"Solomon! Sol, Mister Diagoras is here," and he was gone again.

Solomon gave the Doctor and Rose a short, concerned look, then hurried outside after the young man.

The Doctor and Rose followed.

As Rose ducked her head under the tent flap, the Doctor holding it back for her, she saw three men, substantially better dressed than the rest of Hooverville's population. One in the middle in a pin-striped black suit, was doing all the talking. This must have been the 'Mister Diagoras' the young man had rushed into the tent to announce.

"I need men!" Diagoras called. "Volunteers. I got a little work for you. And you sure look like you could use the money," he said in a jovial way that even offended Rose, and she wasn't in the same position as all the Hooverville residents.

"Yeah, what is the money?" the young man who'd alerted Solomon piped up.

"A dollar a day," Mr Diagoras replied.

Rose's eyes flickered to the Doctor. Was that good money, in this time?

"What's the work?" Solomon called out gruffly.

"A little trip down the sewers," Mr Diagoras continued, an edge beginning to sound in his tone, as though he couldn't believe people were questioning work when they so desperately were in need of it. "A tunnel collapsed, needs clearing and fixing. Any takers?"

"A dollar a day, is slave wage," Solomon growled. "And men don't always come back up. It's foolish," he turned away, as though he'd heard enough.

"Accidents happen!" Diagoras stressed.

"What do you mean, what sort of accidents?" the Doctor asked shrewdly.

"If you don't need the work, that's fine," Diagorus shook his head at the Doctor, then addressed the crowd again. "Any body else?"

The Doctor raised his hand.

"Enough with the questions," Diagorus scathed.

"Oh no no no, no, I'm volunteering," the Doctor looked from Diagorus, down to Rose, and back up again. "I'll go," he said lightly.

Rose stared up at him in disbelief. Then raised her own hand. "I hope you know what you're doin'," she muttered.

"Anybody else?" Diagorus called.

Rose saw only two more hands raise, reluctantly. Solomon's, and the young man next to him.

"Told ya, ninja turtles," Rose sighed, unimpressed.

The Doctor looked down at her, his eyebrows lowered.

* * *

The New York sewers were large, dank, dark – everything you would expect a sewer to be. Rose held her arms as the chill of the place started to seep into her bones.

Diagorus was explaining the job. "Turn left, oh, about a half mile," he pointed ahead of them. "Follow tunnel two-seven-three. Fall's right ahead of you, can't miss it," he turned and put his hand on the ladder that lead to the surface.

"And when do we get our dollar?" the young man, Frank, he'd introduced himself as to Rose, spoke up.

"When you come back up," Diagorus paused before speaking.

"And if we don't come back up?" the Doctor asked quietly.

Mr Diagorus stared at the Doctor a moment before; "Then I got no one to pay," he replied, shrugging.

"Don't worry. We'll be back," Solomon moved past Rose, stepping into the tunnel, his torch weaving a path in front of him.

"Hope so," Rose turned her own torch on. She followed Solomon.

Diagorus and his cronies left them to it.

Frank fell into step beside Rose. "We gotta stick together," he told her. "Coz if you get lost, it's a huge rabbit warren, you could hide an army down here."

Rose nodded to him. She had no intention of leaving the group. "So wha' about you Frank? You're not from here are ya?"

"You can talk!" Frank laughed at her, a little nervously. Rose smiled as the Doctor walked past to catch up to Solomon. The Doctor looked from Rose, to Frank, as he stepped past them, putting a hand on Rose's shoulder, the smallest hint of irritation in his eyes.

Frank watched the Doctor, then shrugged. "Nah, I'm..I'm Tennessee born and bred," he nodded.

"So, why you in New York?" Rose made conversation, staring at the Doctor's back, crossing her arms, torch waving out behind them. What had that been?

"Oh," he shuffled his feet a little reluctantly. "My daddy died," he replied.

Rose forgot about the odd look the Doctor had conveyed in passing, and gave her attention to Frank.

"Mamma couldn't afford to feed us all," he shrugged. "So I'm the oldest, up to me to feed myself. So I put on my coat, hitched up here on the railroads," he said with determination.

"And you're all on your own?" Rose asked, concerned. He couldn't have been older than her.

Frank grinned sideways, nodding ahead. "Aww…Solomon, keeps a look out for us, it's all right," he turned back to Rose. "So what about you? You're a long way from home."

Rose frowned. "Yeah, I'm just a hitcher too," she said dismissively. What could she say to him? Perhaps her tone would make him think she didn't want to talk about it. Which wasn't fair, really, since he'd just told her his life story.

Frank didn't seem to mind, smiling that half-smile again. "You stick with me, you'll be all right," he nodded, a protective edge in his nervous voice.

Rose smiled back at him. He was really sweet. Reminded her a little of Adam, only not as pushy.

"So this Diagorus bloke," the Doctor called out quickly, then looked to Solomon. "Who is he then?"

"Couple of months ago he was just another foreman," Solomon shrugged, watching their path with a squint. Rose closed the gap between them so she could listen.

"Now, seems like he's running most of Manhattan," Solomon finished, somewhat ironically.

"How'd he manage that then?" the Doctor asked lightly.

"These are strange times," Solomon frowned. "Man can go from being the king of the hill to the lowest of the low. Overnight."

The Doctor was slowing down, and Rose saw his head move slightly. His attention wasn't on Solomon's tale.

"Must be some folks it works the other way round," Solomon finished.

"Whoa!" the Doctor interrupted, coming to a stop and shining his torch at the ground.

Rose stepped up beside him. There was something, green and glowing, about the size of a brain, in front of them.

"Okay, when I said mutant ninja turtles, I _was_ jokin'," Rose crouched down to get a better look at it. "Is it radioactive or something?" she covered her mouth as a rotten smell wafted up from the thing.

The Doctor crouched down next to her, putting on his glasses.

"It doesn't half stink," Rose continued, then gaped, as the Doctor calmly picked it up. "Please don't lick it," she warned him, as he sniffed it, all concerned interest and no revulsion in his expression.

The Doctor was weighing the green thing in his hands. "Shine your torch through here, will you Rose?" he asked softly.

Rose obliged, angling her torch under it. It was slightly transparent, and still looked like an alien sort of brain.

"Composite organic matter," the Doctor muttered.

"Alien?" Rose asked quietly.

"Yes. It is," the Doctor's mouth skewed a little as he stood, putting the thing in his pocket.

Rose made a mental note to send his coat off for dry-cleaning at the next civilised planet they stopped off at.

"And I'll tell you something else," the Doctor spoke a little hurriedly now. "We must be at _least_ half a mile and I don't see any sign of a collapse, do you?" he turned to the other three. "So why did Mr Diagorus send us down here?"

Solomon and Frank looked confused, Solomon with his eyes on the Doctor's pocket.

Rose blew on her cupped hands to warm them. "Where are we now, what's up above?"

"Well," the Doctor's eyes travelled upwards. "We're right underneath Manhattan."

"Maybe it's just a little further ahead," Frank spoke up quietly.

With that, the foursome continued down the dank sewers. Rose's mind was on the green thing in the Doctor's pocket more than her spooky surrounds, now. She'd done spooky alleyways before. Of course, she'd none alien organs before too, but the Doctor had always been able to identify it, in the blink of an eye.

"We're way beyond that mile," Solomon broke their silent patrol eventually. "There's no collapse. Nothing."

"So that Diagorus bloke was lying?" Rose asked.

"Looks like it," the Doctor stopped walking. The other three stopped beside him.

"So why'd he want people to come down here?" Frank asked in a shaky voice.

"Solomon I think it's time you took these two back. I'll be much quicker on my own," the Doctor said in an undertone.

"Oi, I don't think so--" Rose began, but was cut off by a screech in the tunnels.

"What the hell was that?" Solomon fired quickly.

All four listened for it to repeat itself, then--

"Hello?" Frank called out into the gloom.

"Shh, Frank!" Solomon hissed.

"What if it's those folk gone missing?" Frank explained. "You'd be scared half mad down here on your own," he reasoned.

"You think they're still alive?" the Doctor's lips were pursed.

"Hey, could be, we ain't seen no bodies down here, maybe they just got lost," Frank shrugged, a shake still in his voice. Rose put a hand on his arm to try comfort him; he was obviously scared half to death himself.

There was another screech in the tunnels, and both Frank and Rose jumped.

"Well, I ain't heard nobody make a sound like that," Solomon deduced.

"Where's it coming from?" Frank asked quickly.

Both the Doctor and Solomon started shining their torches around in different directions. Rose and Frank caught on, moving slowly, searching for signs of movement. Rose wasn't sure if she actually wanted to find what it was making that noise. The screeching doubled, echoing off the close walls.

"Sounds like there's more than one of them," Frank announced.

"This way," the Doctor pointed his torch down one of the alleyways.

"No. That way," Solomon was pointing in the opposite direction.

Rose was shining her torch ninety degrees to both of them. The light caught on what looked like a figure, hunched over in the corner. Something or someone that didn't look quite right.

"Doctor…" she whispered urgently, not wanting to move her head.

All three men turned to Rose quickly. The Doctor's eyes followed the path Rose's torch made.

"Who are you?" Solomon called out.

"Are you lost?" Frank called hopefully. "Can you understand me? I've been thinking about folk lost down--" he started to explain.

"It's all right Frank. Just - step back," the Doctor cut him off, not unkindly. "Let me have a look," he turned back to the hunched figure, walking toward it slowly. Rose felt a lump of fear rise in her throat again as the Doctor moved away from them.

"He's got a point though, my mate Frank," the Doctor was addressing the hunched figure. "I'd hate to be stuck down here on my own. But we know the way out. Daylight," he'd reached the creature's side. Crouched down to it. "You can come with us," he said quietly, angling his torch up into the figure's face. "Oh…but what are you?" he asked in quiet wonder.

Rose could see it's face now. It looked like a pig. A pig on a person's body. She'd seen this kind of thing before, ages ago, when she'd first started travelling with the Doctor, when he'd been in his other body. The Slitheen had done it, mutated a pig, as a cruel joke. But they _couldn't_ be here--

"Is that uh, some kind of carnival mask?" Solomon asked. Rose's eyes snapped to him, pulling her out of her reverie. Solomon looked like he'd seen the devil himself; Frank just looked confused, sad even.

"No. It's real," the Doctor called back. "I'm sorry," he addressed the pig-man again. "Listen to me. I promise. I can help."

There was movement in the tunnel beyond them. It caught Rose's attention and she waved her torch towards it. There were suddenly, shadows. Shadows of tall-standing pig-men, all over the wall, just beyond the Doctor. Rose's voice was stuck as she tried to call out.

"Who did this to you?" the Doctor continued quietly to the pig-man on the ground, unaware.

"Doctor, I think you'd better get back here," Rose found her voice finally. "Doctor!" she cried.

The Doctor's head snapped to the movement to his left. "Actually. Good point," he stood, backing away.

"They're following you," Frank told him.

"Yeah, I noticed that, thanks," he said lightly. "Right then. Rose? Frank? Solomon?"

"What?" Solomon asked hurriedly, backing away with Frank and Rose.

"Well. Um. Basically," he stammered.

"Run!" Rose cried.

There was movement, all at once, from all directions. Rose ran, leading Frank, Solomon and the Doctor down the alleyways of the sewer. She could hear the terrifying beat of the pig-man army behind her.

"Where are we going?" Rose called out as she came to a t-intersection in the sewers.

"This way!" the Doctor called back, dashing past her. Rose hurried after him, Solomon and Frank right behind her.

The Doctor led them as though following a mental map. Rose wondered how he knew where to go, when he did a double take at another turning.

"Ah, it's a ladder, c'mon!" he cried in triumph, dashing down an alleyway.

He was up the ladder in what seemed like two bounds, sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, running the blue glow around the edge of the manhole cover at the top. In a couple of seconds, it was open, and he climbed out. Rose was already half way up the ladder, and he lifted her the rest of the way.

"C'mon, c'mon!" the Doctor called motioning upwards to Solomon and Frank as Solomon reached the base of the ladder.

Rose leaned over the side, reaching down her hands to help Solomon up.

"Frank! C'mon!" Rose called down into the tunnel as Solomon joined them at the top.

Frank was brandishing what looked like a piece of square steel, facing off against the army of pig men.

_What's he doing?! _Rose's heart leaped into her mouth.

He flicked a look up the ladder, and, seeing it cleared now Solomon was at the top, threw down the steel and hurried toward them.

"C'mon Frank," the Doctor reached out as the young man started to clamber up the ladder.

"Hurry!" Rose cried, her hand outstretched as well.

Rose grabbed his hand, just as a group of pig-men grabbed a hold of Franks legs, still only half-way up the ladder.

"I got ya!" Rose cried. The Doctor grabbed her wrist, then reached down with his other hand to secure Frank's wrist.

"Fight!" the Doctor screamed down at Frank. "C'mon! C'mon!"

Rose could feel the tug of the pig-men – they were collectively stronger, and they had gravity on their side. The pig-men won; Frank's hand fell out of the Doctor and Rose's grip, and he was carried away by the hoards.

"No!" Rose screamed, flinging herself at the manhole, hands reaching out. The Doctor grabbed Rose's sides and hung onto her to stop her falling, and at the same time, Solomon pushed her out of the way, covering the manhole quickly.

Rose and the Doctor fell back; Rose landed on the floor. She scrambled to her feet and back to the manhole cover, but Solomon had already closed it.

"We can't go after him," he stressed.

"No, we've got to go back down, we can't just leave him!" Rose cried to him, in frustration.

"No!" Solomon ordered. "I'm not losing anybody else."

"You don't have to lose him, we can still—" Rose cried hurriedly.

"Those creatures were from hell, from hell itself," Solomon interrupted angrily. "If we go after them? They'll take us all. There's nothing we can do. I'm sorry."

Rose turned to the Doctor; surely, he would agree with her, they would pull off the manhole cover, and go after Frank. The Doctor was still as he had fallen on the ground, his face a mask of terror, unmoving. He opened his mouth and started to scramble to his feet--

"All right then, put em up."

The Doctor turned, and Rose looked over his shoulder; there was a blonde woman standing there, pointing a gun at them.

Rose put her hands up. Solomon did the same. The Doctor just looked confused.

"Hands in the air and no funny business," the woman ordered in a thick New York accent. "Now tell me you shmucks. What have you done with Laszlo?"

Rose lowered her hands, confused at being snapped from the grief of losing Frank, to this. What had they landed in now?

"Who's Laszlo?"

* * *

Tallulah, 'three l's and an h', took them to her dressing room, explaining, desperately, waving the gun, that Laszlo was her boyfriend, and he'd disappeared two weeks earlier.

"No letter, no goodbye, no nothing," she moaned. "And I'm not stupid," she waved the point of the gun near her temple, "I know some guys are just pigs, but not my Laszlo," she pointed the gun back at them, as though she didn't realise she was still holding it. Rose and the Doctor startled back a little.

"I mean, what kind of guy asks you to meet his mom before he vamooses?" she asked desperately.

"Yeah, might, might just help if you put that down," the Doctor held his hand out, trying to urge her to let go of the gun.

"Huh?" Tallulah stared at it. "Oh, sure," she threw the gun into a pile of silk, nearly laughing.

The Doctor jumped again, his eyes swivelling to the fallen gun as though he was worried it would go off.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not real," Tallulah waved her hand at them. "It's just a prop. It was either that or a spear," she turned to her mirror dismissively.

The Doctor and Solomon had gone to find parts, parts to build something, to check out the weird alien green thing he'd been carrying in his pocket, he told Rose. He was certain that if he could know what it was made of, he'd know where it was from. Then he'd know what to do. Know what he was fighting.

Rose sat on a long seat in Tallulah's room, watching her get ready for the show. The initial fright of having this crazy blonde woman thrust a gun in their faces was wearing down. She was desperate, scared and confused. Rose could understand it.

"Laszlo," Tallulah reminisced, grinning in the mirror at Rose as she put on an earring. "He'd wait for me after the show. Walk me home like I was a lady," she smiled. "He'd leave a flower for me on my dressing table, every day just a single rose bud," she nodded to Rose.

"Haven't you reported him missing?" Rose smiled sadly.

"Sure," Tallulah laughed. "He's just a stagehand, who cares?" she shrugged. "The management certainly don't."

"Yeah, but…can't you kick up a fuss or something? You're the star of the show, they'd listen to you," Rose pointed out, moving over to the dressing table, picking up a sparkling tiara idly.

"Okay so then they'd fire me," Tallulah smirked shrewdly, then sighed. "Oh honey, I got one song and a back street review and that's only because Heidi Chickaine broke her ankle, which had nothing to do with me whatever anybody says," she pointed out, to make it perfectly clear. "I can't afford to make a fuss," she turned back to her mirror, a little helplessly. "If I don't make this month's rent then before you know it, I'm in Hooverville."

Rose put the tiara back on the dresser. "Bu'…why doesn't any one care?"

"It's the depression, sweetie," she shrugged. "Your heart might break but the show goes on because if it stops you starve," she stood, facing Rose. There were great big tears welling in her eyes. "Every night I have to go out there, sing, dance, keep going."

Rose enveloped Tallulah in a hug.

The girl sobbed a little, "Hoping he's going to come back."

"I'm sorry," Rose didn't know what to say.

"Hey, you're lucky though," Tallulah pulled away, smiling again but wiping her eyes. "You got yourself a forward thinking guy with that hot potato in the sharp suit," she raised her eyebrows.

Rose leaned against the wall, turning her head up. "We're not…together, as such, we're jus'--"

"Oh, _sure_ you are. I've seen the way you two look at each other, it's obvious," Tallulah teased, walking over to a side table with more of her costume on it.

Rose smiled a bit at Tallulah. Was it obvious? Shakespeare had said as much to them, as well. "It's…complicated," Rose shrugged.

"Oh. I should have realised," Tallulah must have read something in Rose's look, sounding like she had figured it all out. "He's into musical theatre, huh? What a waste," she reached for a set of white feathery wings.

Rose shook her head to try explain, but Tallulah didn't stop for breath.

"Still. You gotta live in hope. It's the only thing that's kept me going," she grinned knowingly, stretching her arms through glittering bands to support the wings. "'Cause…well, look," she picked up a flower from her dresser. "On my dressing table, every day still," she handed it to Rose.

Rose regarded the perfect white bud with a frown. "Do you think it's Laszlo?"

"I don't know," Tallulah smiled, her brows crossed slightly. "If he's still around why's he being all secret, like he doesn't want me to see him?"

Rose handed the white rose bud back to the girl; she tucked it into the neckline of her costume, then held her hand out to Rose with a grin.

"C'mon honey, take a look," she motioned toward the exit. "Ever been on stage before?"

"Oh, a little bit, in high school. You know, Shakespeare," she smirked.

"How dull is that?" Tallulah laughed. "Come and see a real show," she grabbed Rose's hand and lead her out to the curtains.

* * *

Rose watched the show from stage right, smiling at Tallulah's performance. So many people watching her, probably just thinking she was some daft showgirl without a care in the world beyond hair colour. Nobody would look deeper than that, and see the scared, lonely girl beneath.

Tallulah wouldn't let them.

"You lured me in with your cold grey eyes," Tallulah sang. "Your simple smile you're bewitching lies. One and one and one is three. My bad, bad angel, the devil and me—ee," she swayed. There were calls from the crowd. "You put the devil in me," she repeated.

She was good, Rose thought, raising her eyebrows. She wondering if the Doctor was seeing this – Rose indulged a moment, as though there was nothing wrong, and they'd simply travelled to 1930's New York to catch a show.

Oh well! She was sure he was around here somewhere, in his element, figuring out what the green blob was.

She subconsciously scanned the crowd for him, but couldn't see anything, because of all the lights illuminating the stage. Her eyes drifted back to the stage – and then beyond.

Stage left. What was that? Another person, watching, just like she was. Not the Doctor, so--

_Wait_. Rose looked again. It was a pig man. Well, not a whole pig man, this one looked like he was only half pig in the face. Before she could stop herself, Rose was dashing across the stage to get to the other side.

"What are you doing?!" one of the red dancers called to her, as she ducked behind the girl's feathers – misjudged, and grabbed out for support as she began to fall.

The dancer fell on top of Rose, causing a racket and a thump.

"Ow!"

Tallulah and the other dancers looked over.

"What are you doing?" she was confused. "Get off the stage, you're spoiling it!"

"You're on my tail, get off my tail!" the dancer Rose had pulled over grated, tugging her devil tail out from under Rose's foot.

"But…look!" Rose pointed to the pig-man offstage, grabbing Tallulah's arm as she hauled herself to her feet.

Tallulah turned and screamed a blood curdling scream.

The pig-man startled, and dashed away. Rose raced after him.

"Wait!" she called, running backstage. "We can help you!"

The pig-man didn't stop running. He lead Rose into the room they'd entered the theatre from – the one that lead to the sewers. As Rose stopped in the doorway, she heard the manhole cover sliding shut. Rose shook her head sadly, turning to leave--

A pig-man, like the one they'd met in the tunnel before, leaped out of the shadows and grabbed Rose's arms.

She screamed and tried to fend him off. A second pig-man materialised out of nowhere and Rose was dragged struggling, kicking and screaming, into the sewers.

* * *

"Oof!"

They threw Rose against a wall. One of the pig-men drew closer to her face, grunting softly as though trying to talk to her.

Rose shuddered. "Please…please let me go," she pleaded in a small voice. "I can help you, me and my friend, we can help stop who did this to you…"

The pig-men didn't appear to understand Rose, and turned suddenly. Rose noticed movement in the tunnels. She stayed perfectly still on the wall, hoping they would forget about her and she'd get a chance to run.

What came around the corner was more pig men, but also real _people_. About twelve of them. One of them she recognised, widening her eyes.

"Rose!" Frank's eyes dodged to her as the queue stopped in the alleyway and a couple of pig-men conversed in their grunting language.

"You're alive!" Rose squeaked, as a pig-man pushed her forward to join the queue. Spurred on by momentum, Rose careened into Frank, hugging him tightly around the neck.

"Whoa…" Frank steadied Rose to keep them from toppling over.

"I thought we'd lost you!" Rose continued, as another pig-man pushed them to move. "Hey!" she barked indignantly, let go of Frank, then realised the queue had started moving again.

"Where are they taking us?" Frank whispered over her shoulder as they shuffled forward.

Rose found Frank's hand and squeezed it. "I don' know but I've got a feelin' we can find out what's going on down here," she flicked a look back at him. "Stick with me, you'll be all righ'."

The pig-men seemed to know where they were going. They led the queue down alley after alleyway. Rose and Frank stayed close, hand in hand, Rose all the while keeping her eyes open for any chance of escape. Any signs of the Doctor coming after her. Where _was_ he? Would he even know she was in trouble?

The pig-men stopped the queue after a moment and started grunting, in what could have been anything from fear to pleasure.

Frank's grip tightened on Rose's hand. "What are they doing? What's wrong? What's wrong?" he asked quickly in a hushed voice.

"I don't know!" Rose hissed back, the noises unnerving her even more so.

The pig-men turned to something beyond them, something that's shadow moved down the tunnel smoothly. Rose strained to see. The queue of people were fidgeting and muttering urgently to each other.

"Silence! Silence!" a metallic voice grated over the din.

Rose's heart stopped.

"You will form a line. Move! Move!" it droned, gliding past them to reinforce the movement. The pig-men started jostling the people into their queue again. Rose went slack, and she didn't notice a pig-man push her against the wall this time. Frank ducked down to convey a message to Rose, get her to make eye contact, but she barely noticed him.

Her eyes flickered toward the gliding creature as it passed her. "No…" she whispered, in horror. "No, no, no…" she closed her eyes, a shaky hand idly moving a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Report."

Rose's eyes snapped open. There was a _second_ one in the sewers with them. They were _conversing_. What was going _on_?

Frank unconsciously took a step back from Rose as her face darkened. Her eyes stared, transfixed. "They _survived_?" she grated, little more than a whisper.

Frank looked nervously between the Daleks and Rose. "…You know them metal things? What are they?"

"These are strong specimens. They will help the Dalek cause," the first reported.

"It's called a _Dalek_," Rose didn't take her eyes off them, spitting the word. "And it's not jus' metal, it's alive."

"What is the status of the final experiment?" the first Dalek queried the second.

"What're they going to do with us?" Frank whispered urgently, a more fearful edge to his voice.

Rose shook her head. "They'll kill us," she huffed simply. "That's what they were born to do. Kill and hate. _Destroy_ anything that isn't a Dalek."

"The Dalekanium is in place, the energy conductor is now complete," the second Dalek replied.

"Why?" Frank sounded desperate. He shook Rose's arm a little when she didn't reply.

She couldn't take her eyes off the Daleks. How? _How_ had they survived? She'd lost her family, she'd lost everything. And they were here. Where there more?

"Then I will extract prisoners for completion," the first Dalek announced, gliding in front of one of the men in the queue. The man looked on fearfully, soundlessly as two pig-men held him and the Dalek's sucker extended toward his mouth. Rose was about to jump forward to stop them killing him, when the sucker attached and; "Intelligence scan - initiate," it said. "Reading brain waves. Low intelligence," after a moment.

"You calling me stupid?" his eyes widened in offence.

"Silence! This one will become a pig slave," the Dalek told the pig-men.

The pig-men-slaves – whatever they were – dragged the man away.

"No. Let go of me! I'm not becoming one of them!" he screamed down the tunnel.

Rose swallowed thickly. She had to come up with a plan. Had to. She'd faced them before, she could do it again. _Where was the Doctor?_

"Intelligence scan - initiate," a Dalek suckered Frank, just next to Rose. "Superior intelligence," it reported almost immediately. Frank looked an odd mixture of scared and relieved.

"Intelligence scan, initiate," before Rose could react, there was a sucker over her mouth and nose. It smelled like rust, and plastic, and was awful. But it was only there a moment. The Dalek pulled away, as though it had been burned.

"What is this?" the Dalek glided back, swinging it's sucker in anger.

Rose stared, agog, for a moment, then; "You read my brain waves," she realised. Then laughed. "You know who I am, don't you, _Dalek_?"

"Hoooow--" the Dalek started as the second Dalek moved next to it.

"Don't you _dare_ ask me how you know me!" Rose shouted, pointing her finger at them. Rose noticed in the corner of her eye that Frank looked more fearful than before, more desperate. She quietened, resolved, gripping Frank's hand to try reassure him. "You _know_ me, an' you know who I bring with me," she raised her eyebrows. "And we know you," she nearly laughed.

"Rose, what are you talkin' about, I don't know these things," Frank hissed urgently.

The Daleks turned, a hydraulic moving noise the only sound in the silence.

"Whatever you're up to," Rose felt like her body was on fire as she grated, the words boiling out of her before she could think. "We're going to stop you."

There was ultimate silence in the sewer just for a moment. Rose stared into the first Dalek's blue eye, unblinking.

"Superior intelligence," the second Dalek broke the silence. "This one will become part of the final experiment."

Two of the pig-men grabbed Rose's arms and started dragging her in one direction. She hardly noticed them as she half-laughed, half screamed, "No, I won't! And if I don't stop you, _he_ will!"

"Prisoners of high intelligence will be taken to the transgenic laboratory," the first Dalek ignored her, relaying to the second.

About half of the people were taken away by the pig-men. Rose, Frank and the others with 'superior intelligence' as pronounced by the Daleks, were jostled in the opposite direction. The Daleks lead the way.

Rose fumed, shaking off a pig-man, stepping into the queue, determination setting her jaw in a line. Frank put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a questioning look, and Rose frowned and shook her head. No time to explain.

The Doctor was beside her, suddenly. "Keep walking," he whispered into her ear.

_Where did he come from?_ Rose's head turned back quickly to regard him with wide eyes, then did as he said, turned forward, and kept walking. Relief flooded through her; he _had _come. She _wouldn't_ have to face the Daleks alone.

"I'm so glad to see you," she let out a shaky breath.

"You were doing so well without me, too," he murmured, again just over her shoulder.

"You call _this_ doin' well?" Rose motioned the queue, the Daleks. Her eyes flicked over her shoulder again to gauge his response; if he was being sarcastic, she was going to slap him.

There was no mistaking the pride, and the ultimate sadness, in his eyes as he beheld her.

Rose turned back, feeling as though she'd been doused with hot water, somewhat embarrassed under that intense gaze. She kept walking.

* * *

They were lead to the Empire State Building basement. It was huge. There were what looked like science experiments going on all around them, with fires, chemicals in beakers, acrid smells, the works. Rose didn't recognise anything in the room; apart from the four Daleks.

So, there were four of them. The same four that had released the genesis arc in Canary Wharf? She wasn't sure, and it didn't matter. A Dalek was still a Dalek.

The pig men flanked the prisoner's queue as the two Daleks that had escorted them glided forward.

Rose turned back to the Doctor and looked him up and down, her eyebrows raised. "They don't seem to have noticed you?"

"I don't exactly want to get noticed," he shrugged back, then nodded forward.

There was a black Dalek at the front of the room. Rose was _certain _she'd seen, she'd _met_ this Dalek before. One of the only Daleks with a name; Sec. Dalek Sec was shaking, his pepper-pot casing smoking at the creases. Something was wrong.

"Report," one of their escort demanded.

"Dalek Sec is entering the final stage of evolution," the third Dalek announced.

"Scan him. Prepare for birth," the first intoned.

"Evolution?" the Doctor whispered in puzzlement behind her.

"What're they _doin'_?" Rose hissed back at him.

"Ask them," he nodded forward.

Rose turned back and gave him a look. Was he kidding?

"They already know you're here, ask them what's going on," he nodded again, encouragingly.

Rose turned back to the Daleks, taking a step forward as she searched for the adrenalin that had earlier made her so bold in the tunnel. Her legs felt like jelly.

"Daleks!" Rose called out. Simply saying the word fired Rose up. The three Daleks turned back to her, the closest gliding a little nearer. "I demand to be told," Rose continued. "What is this final experiment? Report!" she ordered.

"You will bear witness," the Dalek told her.

Rose couldn't believe that had worked. "To what?" she fired.

"This is the dawn of a new age," the same Dalek swivelled a little on the spot, and if Rose didn't know better, she would have thought it was excited. This didn't make any sense.

"Explain!" Rose commanded.

"We are the only four Daleks in existence, so the species must evolve. A life outside the shell. The children of Scaro must walk again," it explained.

Rose wished she could clang it. Walk over and just give it a good whack, because it wasn't making any sense, still. Before she could demand any more answers from it, Dalek Sec, at the back of the room, cracked open like an easter egg. Smoke poured out as the Dalek shell opened, and something hideous _stepped _out onto a pair of shiny black shoes, clothed in black pin stripe pants.

It wasn't human. It wasn't a Dalek, either. Rose unconsciously stepped back, and the Doctor took her shoulder tightly.

The monster unfolded in front of them, lifting it's head, sighing the air with it's first breath. "I am a human Dalek," it rasped. "I am your future."

* * *

…_to be continued in Evolution of the Daleks…_

* * *


	7. Edisode 5: Evolution of the Daleks

EVOLUTION OF THE DALEKS

_Thanks so much for the reviews so far guys! _

* * *

_It wasn't human. It wasn't a Dalek, either. Rose unconsciously stepped back, and the Doctor took her shoulder tightly. _

_The monster unfolded in front of them, lifting it's head, sighing the air with it's first breath. "I am a human dalek," it rasped. "I am your future."  
_

* * *

Rose frowned in disgust, the bile rising as she beheld the abomination in front of her. Dalek Sec. One of the Cult of Scaro. They were responsible for the battle of Canary Wharf. For sending her mother to hell. For destroying _everything_. 

The Doctor's grip tightened on her shoulder a moment, fiercely. It brought her back to the now, and she reminded herself she wasn't the only person who had lost everything at the hands of the Daleks. The past was past and she couldn't change that. But she could do all in her power now to stop them doing the same to anyone else.

The Doctor let go. Rose noticed him ducking around the back, out of the corner of her eye. She stepped back into the line. He was up to something; she wouldn't mess it up by drawing attention.

"These humans will become like me," Dalek-man – Manlek? – Sec, rasped. "Prepare them."

Pig slaves were on them in an instant. Rose made an effort to struggle, since everyone else was.

Music. There was, suddenly, music, ringing throughout the basement. Rose smiled, feigning her resistance.

"What is that sound?" Sec demanded.

"Ah well, now, that would be me," the Doctor stepped out from behind some gold screens. "Hello, surprise, boo, etcetera," the Doctor stuffed his hands into his pockets, coming to a stop in the middle of the room.

"Doctor!" Sec gasped.

"The enemy of the Daleks!"

"Exterminate!"

"Wait," Sec held up a hand swiftly.

The Daleks swivelled nervously as the Doctor gave the prisoners behind him, Rose included, a sideways look, then strolled forward. Checking they were all right? The pig slaves had certainly stopped hassling them, watching for orders.

"Well then, a new form of Dalek, fascinating, and very clever," he punctuated.

"The Cult of Scaro escaped your slaughter!" Sec grated.

"How did you end up in nineteen thirty?" the Doctor fired quickly.

"Emergency temporal shift," the Manlek told him, a crazed look in his solitary eye.

Rose shook her head, forcing down tears. They had run. Run away. While she'd lost…_no, no, stop it, Rose. Stop it_. She shook her head, hardening herself. Forcing herself to watch. The Doctor was up to something. If he needed her, she would be ready to act.

The Doctor was staggering around, scratching his ear confidently, antagonising the Daleks into something, trying to get them to tell him their story, by the sounds.

"What does it _feel_ like?" the Doctor raised his eyebrows. "You can talk to me Dalek Sec," he spat. "It is Dalek Sec isn't it, that's your name?" he scrunched his nose. "You've got a name and a mind of your own," he stepped up to stare down the one eye. "Tell me what you're thinking _right_ now."

"I feel…humanity," he considered, his one-eye looking startled.

"Good, that's good," the Doctor nodded quietly.

"I feel everything he wanted for mankind…" Sec continued, holding his hands out, marvelling at himself. "Which is…ambition. Hatred. Aggression."

Rose shook her head, a fire beginning to burn in her belly, travelling up her spine.

"And war. Such a genius for war," Sec continued.

"That's _not_ what humans are!" Rose cried from the back of the room.

"I think it is," Sec fired back quickly. "At the heart, this species is so very…_Dalek_."

"No--!" Rose started.

Sec was distracted by her a moment, and the Doctor cut her off very quickly, drawing Sec's attention back to him. "Oh right, so what have you achieved then with this final experiment, hey? Nothing!" he bellowed. "'Cause I can show what you're missing – this," he pointed to his left, at the small, red radio he'd interrupted everyone with earlier. "A simple little radio," he tapped it fondly.

The other Daleks in the room were still uneasy, almost jittery. "What is the purpose of that device?" one called.

"Well exactly, it plays music what's the _point_ of that?" the Doctor turned to the other three Daleks, staring them all down angrily. Then sobered. "Oh, with music, you can dance to it," he turned around, winking at Rose, "sing with it. Fall in love to it," he smiled tenderly.

Rose stared back at him, unfaltering. Watching. Waiting. She nodded.

He spun back around. "Unless you're a Dalek of course, then its all – just - noise!"

With a zap of the sonic screwdriver, an ear-shattering buzz and squeal rang out in the basement. The Daleks started to shake, as though the sound was ripping them apart.

"Run!" the Doctor yelled at the people huddled at the back of the room, dashing to meet them.

Rose didn't wait to be told again. She grabbed Frank's hand and dashed out, back toward the sewers. "C'mon!"

"Protect!" the Daleks were screaming. She couldn't see them anymore, but they most certainly weren't following them, yet.

Rose led the people to an intersection, as the Doctor dashed past her. He _was_ fast.

"C'mon!" he cried, triumph but urgency in his voice. "Move move move!"

Rose let him take the lead, since he seemed to know where he was going, and dashed after him.

"And you Tallulah! Run!" the Doctor called.

"Tallulah!" Rose grabbed the startled girl's arm as she dashed past her. What was _she_ doing down here? "C'mon!"

"But…what happened to Laszlo?" Tallulah cried, falling into step beside Rose.

There wasn't time to answer. Rose saved her breath for running, following the Doctor, keeping up with him and all his energy. They reached a ladder.

"C'mon, everyone up! C'mon!" the Doctor stayed at the bottom, urging the line of people up before him. Rose tried to stay by his side, helping people up, but he pushed her up the rungs very suddenly as the last person began to climb. "Go go go! I'm right behind you!"

Rose dashed up the ladder, the Doctor hot on her heels, the last to climb. They flung themselves to the surface, the Doctor sliding the cover over the gaping hole, then rocking back on his arms, breathing heavily, looking skyward.

In the panic, Rose had been flung onto the ground as well. The Doctor grinned across the manhole cover at her, jumping to his feet.

They were safe, for the moment.

* * *

The group trooped back to Hooverville; there was no where else to go. Solomon had welcomed them back, with a sideways look at the Doctor, as though trying to figure out if he should be scared of him or not. 

Rose and Tallulah sat down by the campfire next to each other. Rose warmed her hands; it was so cold here.

Frank retold Solomon what had occurred. The Doctor stayed quiet, the whole time, hands in his pockets, head down, staring at the fire, the far-away look back in place.

"These Daleks," Solomon turned from Frank to the Doctor, cup of tea in one hand, gun slung over his shoulder. "They sound like the stuff of nightmares. And they want to breed?"

The Doctor nodded to the fire, then turned to Solomon sombrely. "They're splicing themselves with human bodies," he said. "And if I'm right, they've got a farm, a breeding stock, right here in Hooverville," he sounded urgent. "You've got to get everyone out."

Solomon was shaking his head. "Hooverville's the lowest place a man can fall, there's no where else to go."

"I'm sorry Solomon," the Doctor said with exasperation, "you've got to scatter, go anywhere, down to the railroads, travel across state, just get out of New York."

Solomon didn't like this, still shaking his head. "There's _got_ to be a way to reason with these things."

Rose huffed a laugh. "Reason with a Dalek?" she spoke quietly, dryly.

"You ain't seen them, boss," Frank stood, shaking his head, the nervous smile back in place.

"Daleks are bad enough at any time," the Doctor told Solomon. "But right now they're vulnerable. That makes them more dangerous than ever," his eyes shone with determination.

Rose nodded dully and turned back to the fire. A weary sort of acceptance that the Daleks had survived and were here and they were running from them – again – was sinking in.

There was a whistling noise, from the tree line.

"They're coming! They're coming!" came a distant call.

The Doctor and Solomon turned to the sound instantly. "Sigfred," Solomon recognised the voice. "Must have seen something."

"They're here! I've seen them!" the voice of Sigfred got closer, and then Rose could see him, running toward them in a panic, gun in hand. "Monsters!" he cried.

"It's started," Rose turned to the Doctor for reaction, for orders, anything. The adrenalin started to charge as he stayed quiet, and she grabbed Tallulah's hand, pulling the girl to her feet. The Doctor stared at her, his brows crossed. Conveying some sort of disbelief.

"C'mon!" Rose turned back to Tallulah, dragging her to the Doctor and Solomon.

"We're under attack! Everyone to arms!" Solomon ordered over the spreading panic.

"We're ready, boss," Frank hurried to Solomon and the Doctor's side, some sort of rifle in his hands. "All of you! Find a weapon, use anything," Frank called, no trace of nervousness in his voice now.

The crowd in the middle started to grow, however, not all residents joined them to take a stand and fight. Some men fled; Solomon and Frank called out for them to stick together, to hurry back, but the fear must have been too much. Rose jumped as she heard a squeal and a scream, of what must have been a pig-man, and a resident of Hooverville, coming to an altercation. She didn't have to guess who won.

"We need to get out of the park," Tallulah called over the racket.

"We can't!" the Doctor dashed back to the middle of the circle, standing beside them. He looked down to Rose. "They're on all sides, they're driving everyone back towards us."

Rose locked his gaze. This was madness.

Tallulah didn't like this news either, "So we're trapped!"

"Then we stand together," Solomon stressed quickly. "Gather 'round. Everybody come to me!" he called out.

The group in the middle of the clearing locked together as the pig-men dashed through, slowing as they noticed the conglomeration of gun-toting Hooverville residents.

"They can't take all of us!" Solomon called.

Gunfire. Rose startled, ducking down, as the Doctor did the same, grabbing her arm. Tallulah crouched down with them. All three of them were defenceless.

Rose covered her ears as the squeals of the falling pig-men rang out across the clearing. Echoing through the night in pain. She closed her eyes to block it out, then forced them open again.

"Doctor," Rose called over the noise, hands still over her ears. "Where are the Daleks? Why'd they send the pig slaves?"

She turned to him, blinking as flashes of gunpowder detonating sparked around her. The Doctor was standing now, staring at the sky, a grim look on his face.

Rose stood shakily, following his gaze.

A Dalek was flying down to them. A second one was in the distance, hovering over Central Park.

Tallulah, grabbing one of Rose's arms, steadied herself. "Oh my god," she exhaled, watching the approaching nightmares.

"What in this _world_—?" Solomon stopped firing long enough to notice the Daleks.

"It's the devil," someone called as the gunshots and squealing from the pig-men died down.

"The devil in the sky, god save us all, it's damnation," a hysterical voice cried out.

"Oh yeah, we'll see about that!" Frank raised his gun, all determination. He fired at the Dalek.

The Doctor dashed toward him as the bullet ricochet off the Dalek. He pushed Frank's gun down.

"It won't work," he grated.

The gunshot from Frank seemed to be what the Dalek's had been waiting for, because they started firing on Hooverville instantly. People screamed, tents burst into flame, as the two Daleks hovered over the slum, firing blue beams in every direction. People fell.

Rose crouched, pulling Tallulah down with her, as blasts reigned down around them. She looked for the Doctor. He was standing, watching the destruction, his back to her. She started to move toward him, to get him to duck, to at least dodge the blasts rather than just stand there, when one of the Daleks spoke.

"The humans will surrender," it told the crowd.

"Leave them alone, they've done nothing to you!" the Doctor called, still standing tall.

Solomon rose and stepped forward, now the Daleks had ceased fire.

"Stay back!" Rose cried to him.

"They tell me," Solomon ignored her. "I'm addressing the Daleks, is that right?" he nodded. The Daleks hovering in the sky watched him. "From what I hear, you're outcasts too?"

"Solomon, don't," the Doctor stepped forward, urging him back with a hand on his arm.

"Doctor this is my township, you will respect my authority," Solomon grated, gently pushing the Doctor back to the crowd. "Just…let me try."

The Doctor shook his head, but stepped back. Rose watched on in horror, wondering why Solomon didn't listen. They had encountered Daleks before. He hadn't. He needed to _listen_ to them. What was he _doing_?

Solomon spoke another of his pretty speeches. About working together. Stopping the fighting. Coming to an agreement.

Rose closed her eyes as he finished.

"Exterminate," the Dalek barked.

With a blast that burned into everyone's retinas, and a scream, Solomon fell to the earth, dead.

"No!" Frank screamed. Rose opened her eyes to see the young man rush forward, leaning over the still shape of Solomon.

Rose got to her feet, flaring at the Daleks. "You _killed_ him," she cried, no match for the noisy panic Solomon's death had caused. "Jus' shot him on the spot, you _cowards_!" she screamed.

"All right. So it's my turn!" the Doctor called out over the commotion. "Then kill me!" he screamed. "Kill me if it'll stop you attacking these people!"

Rose stopped, staring at the Doctor in horror. What was he _doing_? The Daleks wanted nothing more than to kill him, why was he _baiting_ them?

"I will be the destroyer of our greatest enemy," one of the Daleks rasped triumphantly.

"Then do it!" the Doctor sounded hysterical. Rose startled at his tone, too afraid to go to him all of a sudden. "Do it! Just do it! Do it!" he repeated, screaming into the now silent night.

Rose watched the Doctor, her eyes wide with fear. She couldn't let them do this! He couldn't let them kill--

"Exterminate!" one of the Daleks shrieked.

"NO!" Rose stumbled forward, falling into the mud, arms splayed out before her. She tried to scramble to her feet, covered in muck. The Dalek hadn't fired.

"I do not understand," it spoke, hovering uncertainly. "It is the Doctor."

There was a pause in the air. Time itself seemed to move a little slower. Rose looked up at the Dalek, still in the mud, too afraid to breathe in case it fired and killed the Doctor in that moment.

"The urge to kill is too strong," the Dalek seemed to be conversing with someone. Something.

The pregnant pause lengthened. Rose flicked her attention to the Doctor, standing there with his arms out, breathing heavily. He seemed just as confused as she was.

"I…obey," the Dalek reluctantly spoke into the night.

"What's going on?" the Doctor screamed at it.

"You will follow," the Dalek toned monotonously.

"No!" this woke Rose up, and she finished scrambling to her feet. "You can't go," she hurried to the Doctor's side.

The Doctor turned to her. Wiped a bit of mud from her cheek with desperation in his voice. "I've gotta go. The Daleks just changed their minds."

"Daleks never change their minds!" Rose stressed, eyes welling with tears suddenly.

The Doctor shook his head, turning back to the Dalek hovering above, his voice thick with command. "One condition!" he ordered. "If I come with you, you spare the lives of everyone here! You hear me?"

There was a pause as the Dalek considered this.

"Humans will be spared," it announced. "Doctor. Follow."

The Doctor started to move forward--

"I'm coming with you," Rose told him, stepping up beside him.

"No, Rose, stay here," he turned back fully, a hand on her arm. "Help these people," his eyes flickered to the horror-struck crowd. "Let me go," his voice was solid.

Rose opened her mouth to argue as he stepped away but couldn't find any words – and then he turned back again, so suddenly. His eyes were bright. He grabbed the back of Rose's head, drawing her to meet him in a kiss, without a word.

Rose clung to the front of his coat, desperately, kissing him back, trying with all her might to get him to stay. The urgency, the sheer desperation of that kiss, like he was saying goodbye, all but did Rose in has he pulled back, and gripped her hand with both of his.

"Thank you," he cleared his throat, wavering a little, and turning away.

Then he was gone.

Rose did her best to stop from collapsing, or breaking down, or both. She covered her mouth with one hand, trailing her fingers over her lips, shakily.

Rose looked at her other hand. The Doctor had thrust the psychic paper into it before he'd left.

* * *

"So what about us?" Tallulah shrugged, staring into the campfire morosely. "What do we do now?" 

Rose was staring at the blank psychic paper. "The Doctor gave me this," she waved it at Tallulah. "He wants us to...to fight," she said thickly.

"What's that for?" Tallulah looked confused at the paper.

"It…" Rose stared, looking up at the showgirl. "It tells people whatever you want them to think," she laughed, looking back down at it. "Gets you into places."

"But where'd he want you to go?" Tallulah looked sideways at Rose, frowning a little across the campfire.

Rose turned her eyes skyward. The Empire State Building was visible, over the tops of the trees. It swam into her view like a beacon. That's where the Daleks were. But why?

"Frank," Rose turned to the young man, sitting a short way from the campfire. He was sniffling into his glove, the body of Solomon by his feet.

Rose hurried to his side. "Frank," she said, more quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "That Mr Diagorus," she started, crouching down to look him in the eyes. "He's been working with the Daleks. They changed him into one of them."

"Yeah, so?" Frank sniffed.

Rose's mind was ticking over. The Daleks were in the basement of the Empire State Building. "Was the Empire State Building one of his projects?"

Frank nodded, wiping his eyes. "Most his work with us was for building that," he thumbed behind him, at the lit up Empire State Building. "Anywhere he could make a profit. Building, construction, pays the best."

Rose stood, clutching the psychic paper. "Then that's where we're going."

* * *

Rose, Frank and Tallulah stepped out of the lift. Rose had convinced the guards at ground level that they were designers, working late, called in for the final adjustments, with the help of the psychic paper. They couldn't go to the basement, for obvious reasons, so they took the lift up; up, as high as they could go. 

Tallulah moved about the open level with awe. Frank looked around, his eyes lighting up at a drawing board, hurrying toward it. Rose followed him.

"Hey…look at the date," Frank poured over the drawings. "These designs were issued today. They must have changed something last minute," he flipped the drawings.

"The Daleks changed something?" Rose asked him.

"Yeah, could be," Frank shrugged, pointing to a revision stamp, dated November first. "The ones underneath are earlier. Whatever they changed must be on this revision," he unclipped the top sheet. "But not on this one," he nodded back to the underneath drawing.

Rose unclipped the older drawing. "Check them against each other, it can't be that difficult," she reached out for the drawing Frank had in his hands.

"Yeah, you do that," Frank handed her the revised drawing. "I'll go keep an eye out, make sure we're safe up here, don't want nobody butting in."

Frank ran off as Rose knelt on the ground, her eyes roving the pair of drawings. The only immediate difference was the red revision stamp, proclaiming one drawing was newer than the other. She scanned them desperately.

"There's a hell of a storm moving in," Tallulah came back to Rose's side, smiling and pointing outside.

"Mm," Rose kept her eyes on the drawings. She was sure the Daleks had mentioned something, something about an energy conductor, something that was ready for their last experiment, down in the tunnels before. She wished she could remember it clearly.

"Ohh, if the Doctor was here, he'd know what we're looking for," she muttered.

There was a pause as Rose noticed Tallulah in the corner of her eye, stopping next to her.

"So tell me. Where'd you and him first hook up?" she asked.

Rose shook her head. "Now's not the time, Tallulah. Help me!" she called to the showgirl quickly. "They've got him, the Doctor, and he's trusting me to find a way to stop them."

Tallulah crouched down next to Rose, her mind not on the job. "Listen, sweetheart," she sighed. "What happens if we _do_ get out of this?"

"Then we live on," Rose replied hurriedly.

"Live on?" Tallulah huffed a laugh. "What about my future? There's no future for me and Laszlo. Those Dalek things took that away," she shook her head glumly.

Rose turned back to Tallulah. Stared at the saddened girl a moment, before clearing her throat. "There's _always_ a future. You…you still have him. You'll have each other."

Tallulah had tears welling in her eyes. "C'mon, Rose. The one good thing I had in my life and they destroyed it," she scrunched up her nose.

Rose hugged the girl tightly. "You don't want to get into a sad contest with me," she told her, pulling back. Tallulah's eyes were wide, waiting.

Rose sighed. "The Daleks," she decided she'd have to tell her something. "They destroyed…everything," Rose shook her head and turned back to the drawings. "My mum," she said shortly. "She…she came back, in the last battle, to save me. She didn't make it. Seems like so long ago now," closed her eyes a moment.

Tallulah put a hand on her shoulder. "Honey-"

Rose startled a little. "But she's gone," she sniffed, comparing the drawings again, forcing the distraction. "An' the Doctor is all I have left. An' you have Laszlo to fight for. We need to figure this out," she leaned over, concentrating.

Tallulah smiled as she leaned over the drawings as well. "Who'd have thought, a couple of blondes, left to save the world?"

* * *

They did figure it out. There were three lines, three tiny lines, added to the top of the revised drawing. Dalekanium, added to the mast of the Empire State Building, at the last second. 

The Doctor and Laszlo had appeared, so suddenly, with a 'ding' of the lift. Rose had hurriedly pointed to the drawings, to the changes, grinning widely at the Doctor, so happy to see him all in one piece. The Doctor's eyes were wide with adrenalin as he nodded, rushing outside.

Somehow, he'd convinced Rose to stay below, while he climbed to the top, to remove the Dalekanium. He'd done some very fast talking, as usual, and leaped up the ladder.

Rose turned back to Frank, Laszlo, and Tallulah.

"I guess we fight," she said, a little shaken.

They fought. With a spark, Rose had though to use the approaching storm to electrocute the pig men as they came out of the lift. Using all the metal around them to conduct it.

The small, scared group huddled together as the squeals of the pig men echoed throughout the room. The smell of burned bacon wafted sickeningly toward them.

Then it was quiet. Rose stood, shakily, staring sadly at the mass of pig men, still, splayed and broken in the lift. They'd been people, once. And she'd killed them.

The Doctor hadn't gotten all the Dalekanium off in time, either. Rose found him at the top of the Empire State Building, passed out, sweating.

But he'd woken. And he knew better than anyone on Earth what the Daleks' next move would be. War.

He wanted to draw them out, before they could attack New York. Somewhere safe, somewhere out of the way.

The theatre.

* * *

"This should do it, here we go!" the Doctor leaped over a couple of seats, flinging his coat out of the way as he started to fiddle with his sonic screwdriver. 

"Oh, there ain't nothing more creepy than a theatre in the dark," Tallulah held her cloak around her tightly, eyes roving around the theatre. "Listen, Doctor, I know you got a thing for show tunes but there's a time and a place, huh?" she whined.

Laszlo sat down suddenly, heavily, behind her.

"Laszlo? What's wrong?" the theatre's gloom forgotten, Tallulah sat next to him, hand on his head.

"Nothing," Laszlo was a bad liar. "It's just so hot."

"But it's freezing in here," Tallulah crossed her brows. "Doctor?" urgently. "What's happening to him?"

"Not now Tallulah, sorry," the Doctor held his sonic screwdriver to his ear for a moment.

"What are you doin'?" Rose stared up at him.

The Doctor flashed her a glance. "If the Daleks are going to war, they'll want to find their number one enemy," he explained. "I'm just telling them where I am."

He held the flashing sonic screwdriver high, like a beacon.

"That should do it," he scrutinised the sonic screwdriver a moment longer, then shifted his focus back to Rose, arm still in the air. "Now, I need you to get out of here."

Rose gave him an incredulous look. "I don't think so."

"No, no, no, no arguing, please, Rose," the Doctor pleaded, checking the screwdriver quickly, then nodding to Frank. "I'm telling you to go," he looked back to Rose. "Frank can take you back to Hooverville."

"No," Rose shook her head. "I'm stayin' with you!"

"Rose, that's an order!" the Doctor cried.

"I'm not leaving you to face them alone!" Rose replied desperately.

There was a crash, a boom, and the doorways to the theatre collapsed.

"Oh my god," Tallulah hurried to her feet as humans, humans carrying deranged looking tommy guns, marched into the audience, forming lines down the aisles.

Rose stared – humans, carrying guns that looked awfully Dalek to her.

"What?" she started.

"Humans. With Dalek DNA," the Doctor spoke quietly, lowering his sonic screwdriver back into his pocket.

Frank went to move forward, and the Doctor grabbed his shoulders quickly. "It's all right, all right, just stay calm," his eyes were roving the room. "Don't antagonise them," he told everyone else.

"But what of the Dalek masters, where are they?" Laszlo asked from his seat. It looked like he was having problems breathing.

_BOOM!_

The Doctor pushed Rose and Frank to the floor, ducking as well, as there was an explosion on stage.

As the noise, and smoke, dissipated, the Doctor rose.

Rose peeked over the tops of the seats, as the Doctor put his hand on her head, to keep her down. She caught a glimpse of two Daleks, leading the transformed Dalek Sec, in chains.

She breathed heavily, staring up at the Doctor from behind the seats. He flicked a glance at her, as he straightened fully.

"The Doctor will stand before the Daleks," one of the Daleks on stage commanded.

The Doctor stood, his mouth set in a straight line. Leaped agilely over the tops of the theatre seats to stand in the front row.

"You will die, Doctor," a Dalek cried. "It's the beginning of a new age."

"Planet earth will become new Scaro," the other droned.

"Oh and what a world," the Doctor spat, shaking his head. "With everything, just the slightest bit different, ground into the dirt," he sounded disgusted.

Rose held onto Frank, as Tallulah gripped Laszlo. The Doctor, the Daleks, Sec and the human Daleks surrounding them, battled it out. It was all Rose could do to sit and watch, as the Daleks destroyed everything, _again_. They killed Sec, as he begged them to consider their choices.

The Doctor had dove behind the seats as the human Daleks had turned on their masters, questioning why they were killing at all. Blue zaps had rung out over the theatre, heightened by the finely tuned harmonics of the room.

The two Daleks had been destroyed. Just as the fighting appeared to have finished, and Rose ventured a look over the top of the seat again, the human Daleks dropped their guns, grabbing their ears in pain, screaming.

"No!" the Doctor rushed toward one of the remaining human Daleks.

Rose was able to move, finally, and dashed to his side. "What are they doing?" she cried.

"They can't, they can't, they can't!" the Doctor roared, leaning over a fallen man.

Rose knelt beside the Doctor, her eyes wide.

"They killed them," the Doctor stared down at the now peacefully still man, "Rather than let them live."

Rose leaned over the body, shaking the man's shoulders a little. "They can't have!" she muttered. "The Daleks are dead, on stage!"

"An _entire species_," the Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "Genocide," he grated.

"Two of the Daleks have been destroyed," Laszlo called across the theatre to Rose. "One of the Dalek masters must still be alive."

"Oh yes," the Doctor rose to his feet, standing tall. "In the whole universe. Just one."

Suddenly, he ran.

Rose hurried to catch up after him.

"Rose, help!" Tallulah was calling anxiously across the theatre.

Rose turned to see the girl, struggling to help Laszlo to his feet.

"He's so weak, I don't know what's wrong!" Tallulah was desperate. "Please!"

With a final look at the Doctor as he disappeared out one of the exits, Rose rushed to Tallulah's side.

The Doctor would have to take care of the last Dalek. She would help the living.

* * *

They'd hurried Laszlo to the Empire State Building basement. Rose knew that was where the Doctor would have gone, and she could tell Laszlo was in need of some pretty serious Doctor-ing. Tallulah was hysterical, repeating, for hear own sake, more than anyone else's, that Laszlo would be fine. 

As they entered the basement, Rose heard the last of the confrontation she knew the Doctor had run to.

"Emergency Temporal shift!" echoed around the room.

There was a zap. With a thud to the heart, Rose knew the last Dalek had gone. Run away. _Again_.

She steeled herself as she rounded the corner, helping the hobbling Laszlo. The Doctor was standing there, cursing.

"Doctor!" Tallulah called out across the room.

The Doctor turned to them quickly. Rose focussed on helping Laszlo to the floor as the Doctor rushed to his side.

Laszlo was dying. He told them, quite calmly, that all the other pig-slaves had died within a couple of weeks. That he'd only been able to hold on this long, thanks to Tallulah. But, his time was up.

"Not now, after all this," Tallulah stroked Laszlo's forehead, begging. "Doctor, can't you do something?"

The Doctor was crouched down, rubbing his chin. "Oh Tallulah, with three l's and an h. Just you watch me," he leaped to his feet, throwing off his coat.

Rose watched him, in his element, making use of the genetics lab surrounding them, gladness filling her heart. Passion flowed through his voice, passion and hope and determination.

The Doctor was right; there had been too many deaths, that day. New species, wise old men, arch enemies. There was to be no more deaths today.

* * *

Frank had taken over, as unspoken leader of Hooverville. He'd found a place for Laszlo in the makeshift town, though he couldn't promise people wouldn't stare at the half-pig man.

They had said their goodbyes, in Central Park, Tallulah only able to pry herself from Laszlo's side long enough to hug Rose goodbye.

Then the Doctor and Rose had headed back to the Statue of Liberty, where the TARDIS was waiting patiently.

"You reckon it's goin' to work? Those two?" Rose asked him quietly, hands in her pockets, frowning.

"I dunno," the Doctor shrugged, spinning on his heels and facing the New York skyline again. "Anywhere else in the universe, I might worry about them, but New York…" he considered. "It's what this city's good at. Giving your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, and maybe the odd pig-slave Dalek mutant hybrid too…"

Rose huffed a laugh, eyes focussed on the distance. "An' your ninja turtles," she sniffed.

The Doctor laughed. "Yes, definitely your ninja turtles!"

Rose let her eyes drop from the skyline one last time, and scuffed her shoes in the grass. She turned back to the TARDIS, very suddenly wanting to be inside, taking out her key.

The Doctor was at her side as she fumbled with the lock.

"I'm sorry, Rose," he spoke, taking her hands to stop her fiddling with the TARDIS lock.

"What for?" she frowned.

"He got away," the Doctor's eyes dropped now.

Rose shrugged, turned back to the door. She knew what it meant to him. "Will we ever see 'im again?" she questioned.

"Oh yes," he opened the TARDIS door for her. "One day."

Rose stepped up and leaned against the doorway, nodding. Oddly, even though the last Dalek had escaped them, she didn't feel such harsh a need for revenge as she had earlier. The Dalek's choices continued to lead them to death and destruction. The last Dalek would have to learn, or he'd meet the same fate as his brothers. It wasn't up to Rose, or the Doctor, to seek their revenge on them.

"Now!" the Doctor perked up, dashing into the TARDIS himself, dragging Rose inside on the way. "The lady requested Oxford street, am I right?" he shot her a playful grin across the console.

Rose laughed.

* * *

_…the next episode is The Lazarus Experiment…_

* * *


	8. Episode 6: The Lazarus Experiment

_THE LAZARUS EXPERIMENT_

_This episode was so difficult to write, to make it relevant to Rose. I hope you enjoy it and think I did it some sort of justice. _

_Thanks again for all the great reviews so far – I'm gratified people are finding it so enjoyable._

* * *

The TARDIS materialised in the tube station, of all places. Bond Street, Rose read the time on the wall, stepping down. _10:26am_. 

"It's a bit public," Rose let her eyes rove around the underground, just for a moment. Despite the time, the place, nobody seemed to have noticed them.

"Don't worry, she'll be all right, perception filter," the Doctor closed the door, gave the TARDIS a fond tap on the side, then grabbed Rose's hand. "C'mon!"

With a skip, they fell into step beside each other. A buzz of sonic got them swiftly through the ticket gates. Nobody noticed their exit into the arcade.

Rose nodded to the sonic screwdriver with a cheeky smile as he tucked it back into his pocket. "You know, one day, it's not gonna work an' you'll have to fork out a fine."

The Doctor threw Rose a sideways look. "Not work? Nah, never. Besides," he shrugged, pointedly staring ahead and not making eye contact now. "Don't have any money anyway – well, money that 2007 London would recognise."

"Typical," Rose scoffed at him as they stepped out of the station entrance, onto the sidewalk. The sky was white with clouds, the air thick and damp with the promise of rain, later, perhaps. Rose's hair began to frizz.

"Where to then?" the Doctor stopped in the middle of the walkway, making people alter their paths to pass by. Rose gave him a look, noticed he was squinting, scrunching up his face a bit. Almost like he didn't really want to be there, but would do it anyway, just for her.

Rose's mouth skewed. "This a bit domestic for ya?"

"Hmm?" the Doctor's attention snapped back to Rose as he turned, bumping a young man with a tray of coffees. "Sorry! Sorry," the Doctor called out. The man balanced his takeaways and shot the Doctor an annoyed look. "Sorry," the Doctor winced again, bashfully.

Rose turned away from him, her eyes looking up, then down, Oxford street. There were people everywhere, tourists in offensively bright jackets; shop assistants on their tea breaks outside having a cigarette and a chat; bad hairstyles and designer clothes covering stick insects walking past coolly. Loads of people, carrying shopping bags.

She frowned, looking back up to him. Hands in his pockets, waiting, watching, speculating, with a raised eyebrow, over a couple of taxis fighting for position in front of them.

Rose stuck her hand into the crook of his elbow; the Doctor switching his attention to her politely again, both eyebrows raised in expectation.

"I want to go home," she shook her head simply.

The Doctor's face fell. His eyes looked somewhere between shock and confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, very quietly, very quickly.

Rose blinked, then it dawned on her. "I mean," she stammered a little, "I don't want to be here," she nodded out into the chaos. "Can we go back to the TARDIS?"

With a look to the sky, and an 'Ah!' that he understood, they walked back into the tube station. "Make your mind up Tyler," he joked in mock exasperation, leading her through the crowds of slowly moving people who _didn't _know where they were going.

_Oh God,_ Rose thought as they made their way back through the ticket gates with another buzz, _He thought I meant the Estate!_ Was she not allowed to call the TARDIS home, she wondered? Was it like, a violation or something?

A newspaper stand caught the corner of her eye;

**SAXON ENQUIRY INTO MOON-TRANSPORTED HOSPITAL**

"Did tha' jus' happen?" Rose pointed to it, stopping in her tracks.

The Doctor did a quick double-take. "Looks like it. We're yesterday's news," he grinned, somewhat proudly.

"Feels like months ago," Rose raised her eyebrows with a shrug, then considered. "So…we jus' dropped Martha off, righ'?"

"Couple of hours ago, yeah," the Doctor replied softly, also shrugging, avoiding Rose's gaze by picking up the newspaper and reading, or at least pretending to read.

Rose huffed. Sure, he didn't like talking about old companions. She'd gathered that, from their time with Sarah-Jane. For Martha…he'd said one trip, one trip only. And he'd meant it, but still. Something niggled at Rose. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Ye gonna pay for tha' then? S'aint a library, ye know."

Rose and the Doctor both turned up to face an irked looking woman with frizzy chestnut curls and severe glasses, one eyebrow raised behind them.

The Doctor didn't seem to realise anything was the matter, looking between Rose and the shopkeep. Rose nodded to him, prompting him, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, um, right," the Doctor flashed Rose another look with a sparkle in his eyes, turning back to the newspaper article he'd been engrossed in.

Perhaps he really _was_ reading it, Rose began to think.

"Rose, uh, could you…?" he asked, trailing off.

She stared at him. Cheeky bugger. "Righ'…" she dug into her pockets, finding a five-pound note, walking to the counter and handing it to the woman. "Sorry 'bout that."

Change in hand, Rose moved back to the Doctor's side.

"Wha's so interestin' anyway—" she started.

"Rose, look at this," the Doctor, eyes still fixed on the paper, leaned over to her.

Rose turned her eyes to the offered paper. Last time they'd taken interest in a newspaper article, they'd ended up in a battle against the last four Daleks alive in the universe. She shouldn't have bought it for him…

She read; "Lazarus Laboratories, changing the face of the world…" she started aloud, hurriedly in an undertone.

"It says here," the Doctor interjected quietly, raising an eyebrow, "that one Professor Lazarus is going to change what it means to be human."

"Oh," Rose nodded, not interested, watching the passers by idly.

"Better check it out," the Doctor muttered, tapping a paragraph in the article. "Private gala tonight at Lazarus Laboratories," he finished, handing the newspaper to Rose and grinning, eyes bright. He whipped out the psychic paper with a flourish. "Party time!"

Rose smiled shrewdly at him. "No waitressin' this time, all righ'?"

The Doctor scoffed in mock-shock, "I invite you to a _party_—"

"Tha' we haven' been invited to," Rose butted in, in a sing-song voice.

"Yes, but that's _hardly _the point!" the mocking tone persisted as he strolled back toward the TARDIS, coming to rest against the door, staring down at her, tapping the psychic paper in his hand temptingly. He raised his eyebrows at her quickly, and Rose nearly laughed out loud at him, turning it on like this. "C'mon. Doctor plus one?"

Rose smiled, excitement levels rising. "Ooh, tha's more like it."

* * *

The TARDIS' wardrobe had delivered, again; Rose had brought no formal clothes with her, and didn't really feel like popping back out to the shops, with very little money, to find something to wear other than jeans. 

A little black dress had practically jumped out at her; simple, v-necked, short-sleeved, flared down just under her knees. She wanted to ask the Doctor why this was in his wardrobe with her tongue in her cheek, but decided against it; perhaps she really _didn't_ want to know.

They strolled down a street, towards Lazarus Laboratory. The Doctor fiddled with his bow tie, looking as uncomfortable as a boy being dragged to his first high-school formal.

"Uh, black tie," he muttered. "You know whenever I wear this, something bad always happens."

"_You_ wanted to go to the party," Rose half laughed, feeling considerably taller than usual in black stilettos, a little more confidence winding its way into her walk. "Anyway, I think it suits you," she winked at him.

It was dark; Rose wondered if she'd really just seen the Doctor _blush_.

"Nice shoes," he commented brightly after a pause.

"Thanks," she took his hand, squeezing it. Why was their weirdness between them all of a sudden? She babbled about previous parties they'd been to, as guests, hired help, gatecrashers, to bring him back. He was being unusually quiet, and had been all day. Rose guessed his need to know what this Professor Lazarus had planned was occupying his thoughts.

Lazarus Laboratories loomed in front of them; marble, Romanesque columns backlit by yellow and orange lights, topped by what looked like a fortune in glass; a combination of ancient and modern that oozed sleekness, and somehow, science.

They climbed the stairs, Rose's hand resting on the Doctor's elbow, the Doctor giving an expert flick of the psychic paper in the direction of the security guards. Rose forced her mouth into a frown and tried to look bored; she was sure that if she was grinning cheekily, the bouncers would suspect something was up, as most other people moving into the laboratory looked like they had smelled something awful on the way in.

Then, they were _inside_!

The room they ended up in also looked very modern. A white chamber rested in the middle, flanked by four white and blue glowing, arcing extensions or pylons or something. It must have been the main feature of the night; Rose clung on as the Doctor made an only half-obvious bee-line for it. She followed his lead, accepting a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waitress.

"I'm so glad it's not _me_ doin' tha' this time," Rose said through the corner of her mouth, passing the Doctor a glass. He accepted it with a bit of a startle, stopping in their tracks. Sending a final wary, concerned look over his shoulder at the machine in the middle of the room, before turning back to Rose.

Rose strained a little to look over his shoulder at it again. About TARDIS-size, external TARDIS of course, with a single door on one side. What was so dangerous about it? She wasn't daft enough to ask.

The Doctor's serious look evaporated very suddenly. "Oh, look, they got nibbles! I love nibbles," he stopped a passing waiter, picking canapés off a tray with a grin on his face.

"Steady," Rose laughed at him, taking a sip out of her glass. The champagne was quite tart, but hey, who was she to complain? Most of their travels consisted of struggling, running, it was only occasionally that they got to mingle like celebrities.

"…Doctor? Is that you?"

Rose turned to the confused voice behind her. She knew that voice--

"Rose?" a wide-eyed Martha Jones stood, a few steps away, looking very pretty in a wine-coloured dress and absolutely to _die_ for shoes.

"Martha!" Rose closed the gap between them in two quick steps, flinging her arms around the girl's neck. Martha seemed somewhat startled at Rose's reaction, and Rose had to remind herself; it had been only hours since they'd left Martha in her flat, with very little explanation as to why she could no longer continue with them.

To Rose, it felt like months, and she couldn't hide her grin as she pulled back. "It's so good to see you! You look great!"

"So do you," Martha was smiling, but her eyes looked confused, almost screaming at Rose 'What are you two _doing_ here?'

"Martha Jones, fancy seeing you here!" the Doctor swanned over, about seven canapés in hand, one in his mouth.

Martha gave him an odd, wary look as the Doctor piled some food into his mouth, then she turned back to Rose. "So, what you think, it's impressive, isn't it?" she raised her eyebrows to the room.

"Very," Rose conceded.

"My little sister Tish organised the whole thing, apparently," Martha ducked as she told Rose. "Always been good at setting things up an' bossing people around," she laughed.

"Two nights out in a row for you now Martha, that's dangerously close to a social life!" another girl joined them, elbowing Martha in the side a little.

Martha played along, "Ooh, if I keep this up, I'll end up in all the gossip columns."

"You might actually," the girl raised her eyebrows, nodding. Rose guessed, from the similarity between the two girls, plus the clipboard and air of organised pride about the newcomer, that this was Martha's little sister, Tish. "You should keep an eye out for photographers," she put a hand on Martha's arm, then moved to leave. Reconsidered. "Oh, and mum. She's coming too, even dragging Leo along."

Martha started to laugh about seeing whoever Leo was in black tie, turning back to Rose. Rose was smiling lightly, wondering if she was going to be introduced.

"Oh, of course! Tish, this is Rose, Rose Tyler," she flashed Rose an apologetic look. "She's a friend of mine."

"Hello," Rose smiled brightly. "And this is," she turned to introduce the Doctor, and realised he wasn't at her side anymore. He was a couple of steps away, looking up at the big white chamber in the middle of the room with a thoughtful expression. She turned back to Martha and Tish with a sheepish smile. "_That_, is the Doctor," she indicated. She called back to him, motioning he join them.

The Doctor did a double-take and joined Rose; the introductions were made again. Tish seemed more concerned about the fact that Rose and the Doctor weren't on the guest list than anything else, and the Doctor fobbed the questions off, flashing the psychic paper.

Martha recognised it, of course; Rose had to keep reminding herself; for Martha, they had been in Elizabethan London only _yesterday_.

"Is…something the matter?" Martha asked Rose lightly.

Rose shrugged honestly.

The Doctor was talking to Tish, "So…do you know what the Professor's going to be doing tonight? That looks like it might be a sonic microfilm manipulator."

Tish just rolled her eyes and turned back to Martha. "He's a science geek, I should have known. Gotta get back to work now," her tone changed. "Catch up with you later."

The Doctor watched her go with a small frown. "Science geek, what's that mean?"

Martha laughed. "That you're obsessively enthusiastic about it."

"Oh. Right!" the Doctor gave them a happy, cute grin in reply.

Rose couldn't help but laugh as well.

* * *

Rose had enjoyed the brief catch-up with Martha. Travelling with the Doctor was her world; he was such an important part of her life. She hadn't realised that she'd been missing the company of other girls her own age. 

Martha had disappeared a moment ago, with her family; Leo, her brother, a fit fella looking as uncomfortable as the Doctor in his tuxedo, and Martha's mother, a stern, but glamorous looking woman in a long sleek gown of gold.

The Doctor and Rose were still loitering around the white chamber in the middle of the room. Rose could tell the Doctor wanted nothing more than to step up to it and start sonicing.

Before long, there was a 'ding-ding-ding' of someone gently tapping a knife to a wine glass, and an aged man and woman stepped up onto the small platform surrounding the white chamber.

"Ladies and gentlemen?" the old man called for attention with a crackle of his voice. The room grew silent.

"I am Professor Richard Lazarus," he announced. "And tonight, I am going to perform a miracle," he stated simply. "It is, I believe, the most important advance since Rutherford split the atom, the biggest leap since Armstrong stood on the moon. Tonight, you will watch, and wonder. Tomorrow, we will wake to a world, which will be changed, forever."

Rose felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. The Doctor's calculating look was still in place, and Rose turned back to the machine, trying to emulate his interested yet critical look.

Professor Lazarus stepped into the white chamber. Scientists at the back of the room, behind panels Rose hadn't noticed before, flicked switches. There was a charging up sound, and a buzzing in the air, as the chamber in front of them started glowing a more intense white and blue. The four outside pillars started spinning around the inner chamber, blurring as they got faster.

Rose held her hands up against eyes as the bright white light intensified and the buzzing, winding sound got faster. Brighter than white plasma seemed to be flowing from the top of the chamber, like water.

An alarm started to bleep.

"Something's wrong."

Rose's eyes snapped to the Doctor when he spoke quietly.

His eyes were flicking between the spinning chamber, and the scientists at the back of the room. "It's overloading," he murmured.

At that moment, there were sparks and a crackling sound from the back of the room. Rose turned back to face the sound, and saw several scientists duck quickly as some computer terminals started smoking.

The Doctor was over there in an instant. Leaped over the desks, sonic screwdriver in hand, buzzing, an eyebrow raised as he looked over the dashboard in front of him.

Rose was beginning to feel like she was at a tennis match; her head being snapped from one movement to another.

The old woman, who had been on the platform with Lazarus earlier, called out in dismay in the Doctor's direction. "Somebody stop him! Get him away from those controls!"

The Doctor barked a reply, still sonicing. "If this thing goes up it'll take the whole building with it, is that what you want?"

He leaped back over the workstations and pulled a plug.

The chamber made a whining sound, and stopped spinning, almost instantly.

Rose took this as her cue. As soon as the white columns had stopped, she dashed forward, tugging at the handle on the door to the chamber. That poor old man was still inside!

"Get it open!" the Doctor called from across the room.

It opened.

Rose stepped back, nearly falling from the platform at the sight that met her, emerging from the chamber.

Richard Lazarus stuck one hand, then the other, either side of the chamber door, struggling to hold himself upright. Smoke cleared from inside and Rose took another step back, in confusion.

He looked like he was about thirty years old. Blonde hair, smooth skin. The formerly-old-man held a smooth, shaking hand to his face, as though he didn't quite believe it himself. Then he laughed, staggering out of the chamber, onto the platform.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in the same tone he'd greeted them with earlier. His voice was no longer gravely. "I am Richard Lazarus. I am seventy-six years old. And I am reborn!" he raised his hands in triumph.

There was applause and sounds of wonder from the audience.

Rose felt a hand on her shoulder and drew her eyes from the reborn man in front of her, to face a wide-eyed Martha Jones.

"Wha' the hell was tha'?" Rose fired at Martha quickly, quietly, before Martha had a chance to speak.

The girl's eyes flickered to the stage, then back to Rose. She opened her mouth again, to speak, but appeared to be lost for words.

The Doctor was next to them now as well, the frown still in place. "He just changed what it means to be human."

* * *

Of course, there had to be more behind it. The Doctor had talked to Lazarus, all science, and Lazarus had bore greedy looking holes into both Rose and Martha as they'd stood by him. 

Rose felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. He was so…_slimy_. An old man, transformed into a young one—

She turned back to the Doctor. Wait a moment.

Had Lazarus just done the same thing the Doctor had? Regenerated? Surely not – the Doctor changed all the cells in his body, right? Lazarus was younger, but still appeared to be the same man. Is that why the Doctor was so interested in all of this?

Rose shuddered a little inside as Lazarus kissed her hand, excusing himself with the old woman from before. He kissed Martha's hand as well, then left them.

"Ooh, he's out of his depth. No idea the damage he might have done," the Doctor muttered after their receding forms.

"So…wha' do we do now?" Rose asked.

"Now…?" he looked around, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Well, this building must be full of laboratories, I say we do our own tests!"

"Lucky we've just collected DNA samples then, isn't it?" Martha raised her hand, and her eyebrows, at him. Rose looked down at her own hand. Of course, a genetic transfer. Gross.

The Doctor had hurried them both out of the room to find a laboratory.

* * *

Lazarus' DNA was changing, they'd figured out. 

Well, not they, Rose reconsidered. The Doctor had figured it out, with Martha interjecting titbits of her own medical knowledge into the brainstorming session. The DNA had at least gotten Martha talking to the Doctor again. Rose had noticed, earlier, Martha seemed to be actively avoiding speaking to him.

Rose wondered if she should go back outside and start serving drinks; at least then she would be doing something useful. She crossed her arms, stayed quiet, and tried to keep up with them, feeling dumb.

"Hypersonic soundwaves to destabilise the cell structure, then a mutagenic program to manipulate the coding in the protein strands!" the Doctor turned back to her with a grin, speaking very quickly. Rose caught herself and nodded encouragingly.

"Basically, he hacked into his own genes. He's instructed them to rejuvenate," he finished, thoughtful again, turning back to the computer.

"But they're still mutating now—" Martha started, pointing at the screen. Rose saw the spiralling pattern on the screen, obviously Lazarus' DNA, flicker. She blinked at it, moving closer to watch.

"Because he missed something. Something in his DNA has been activated and won't let him stabilise," the Doctor deduced. "Something that's trying to change him."

"Change him into what?" Rose spoke for the first time since they'd entered the room. A feeling of dread was winding its way into the pit of her stomach. When the Doctor had regenerated, it had seemed as though it completely destroyed him. He'd been stuck in bed, unconscious. She'd thought he was going to die, back then, not understanding what was going on.

This Lazarus bloke had just done something very similar, and was running around proudly as though it happened every day. And his DNA was mutating.

"I don't know," the Doctor continued, musing. "But I think we need to find out."

* * *

Before very long, the inevitable running for their lives began. They had found Lazarus, on the roof, with Martha's sister Tish, being all slimy and cosy with her. Martha had coaxed her sister away, fear in her voice, and Lazarus had transformed into… 

Rose wasn't sure what it was. The Doctor told them it was a throwback, one-hundred percent human, a dormant gene that had been awoken by the hypersonic whatsits.

It looked like a…scorpion, was the closest thing Rose could think of to describe it. A huge scorpion with a deformed human face.

They had run from it. It had chased them. And that summed up the rest of their night. Running, arguing, hiding. The Doctor had tossed Martha his sonic screwdriver at one point, leaving her and Tish to unlock the front doors and get the public, including her family, out of there.

He tried to make Rose go with them. Despite the fear, she just gave him a withering look.

"Do you think tha's _ever_ gonna happen?" she asked him, head on her side.

The Doctor mustn't have been in the mood to argue this time. He grabbed Rose's hand and ran with her, back through the building. They were buying the others some time. Running, like bait. Rose kicked off her heels after stumbling a number of times, discarding them in one of the hallways, continuing bare-foot.

They ran into what reminded Rose of a science lab from high school. She had time enough to notice piles of beakers and chemicals, strategically positioned on a number of desks, before the Doctor pulled her down behind one of them.

She landed, hard, on the cold ground, wincing a little.

The Doctor crouched in front of her, hands on her shoulders. "Watch the door for me. But keep down," he ordered in a hurried whisper.

Before Rose could answer, he stood again and leaped onto a desk beyond her, fiddling with a light on one of the walls.

Rose edged toward the side of the desk, so when she turned, she could see the doorway. There was a banging at the door, like something very large was throwing itself against it. Rose winced, flashing a look back up at the Doctor. _Hurry_, she thought desperately.

The Doctor leaped back down, ducking down beside Rose, putting a hand on her shoulder and leading them to the middle of the desk. He reached a hand forward and turned on a gas valve, raising his eyebrows to it and nodding for Rose to do the same.

Rose nodded in reply, trying to keep from shaking in fear as the banging and crashing against the door got louder, but reached her hand over and started turning the valves on her side of the desk. The Doctor took off for another row.

With a crash, Rose didn't have to look over the desk to know the door was open. She closed her eyes in a flinch, then forced them open again quickly. She had to keep turning on the gas. The Doctor knew what he was doing. A just-audible hissing noise filled the room.

"More hide and seek?" the thing at the front of the room growled. Rose shuddered. "How disappointing! Why don't you come out and face me?"

"You looked in the mirror lately?" the Doctor called from a couple of rows forward.

Rose ducked into the next row back, turning the gas on, desperate to remain unnoticed by the thing.

The Doctor stood. Rose could see him, standing there, facing the front of the room. Her heart leaped into her mouth, and she shakily turned back to her task. Reached the end of one of the rows of desks, and sat back, worried that if she ducked to the next row, the monster would see her and be on her in an instant.

"Why would I want to face that? Hmm?" the Doctor taunted.

He ran. Rose leaped to her feet, and he grabbed her arm as he dashed past, flinging her out in front of him. Rose ran, faster than she'd ever run before, spurred on by the Doctor on her heels and the monster, crashing over the desks behind them.

As they exited the lab, there was a 'flick' of a switch, then an echoing _BOOM_.

Rose was thrown forward, into the hallway, landing on her stomach with an 'Oof!'

The Doctor landed, crouching over her, his head craned over the back of her neck, his arms shielding either side of her. Rose winced, hands over her ears, as the echoing blast and noise of the creature squealing behind them died down and the stars in her eyes flashed, then faded.

It was over in an instant. The Doctor leaped to his feet, helping Rose up swiftly. They were both breathing very heavily, and Rose held onto him for stability, rubbing her head, turning back to survey the burning room. Had they killed it?

Without a word, they hurried down the hallway and away. She certainly didn't want to stick around to find out.

* * *

Martha had come back for them. She'd done her job; she'd gotten everyone out, and had still come back for them. Because she'd thought that they might have needed the sonic screwdriver. 

Rose had hugged her tightly, wincing as she'd inadvertently bumped a couple of bruises in her zeal.

With little time to explain what had happened to Martha, they had been forced to run again. A crackling, smashing sound behind them had made it quite obvious that they _hadn't_ killed Lazarus. They'd just made him mad.

* * *

The Doctor had done it. Beaten Lazarus. 

Rose sighed with relief, as she stepped out of the white chamber they'd been forced to hide in. There was no more cracking or smashing sounds. No more plasma-energised whirring in her ears. It was over.

She searched for the monster, but found only Lazarus the human, lying naked on his front, crumpled on the floor. He was dead.

"Oh, god…" Martha breathed in, a gasp in her voice. "He seems so…human again? It's kind of pitiful."

The Doctor frowned down at the body sadly. "This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper."

* * *

But of course, it wasn't over, was it? 

Outside, Rose had just gotten her breath back, when there was a nearby smashing and twisting of metal sound. The Doctor and Rose turned to one another instantly. There was concern in his eyes.

Martha was talking with her family as Rose and the Doctor dashed passed her. With a few hurried words to her mother, Rose heard the girl start running after them.

The ambulance workers that had taken Lazarus' body away were dead. Drained of life. Lazarus wasn't in the ambulance any more.

The Doctor's sonic screwdriver, blinking bluely, pointed them in the right direction; Southwark Cathedral.

* * *

He was huddled behind the alter, facing the back wall of the cathedral, the red ambulance blanket around his shoulders, his breath thick and heavy. 

Lazarus noticed them with a slow, sideways glance. The Doctor stopped Rose with a hand, and stepped forward to Lazarus himself, carefully.

Richard Lazarus spoke of his childhood. He'd been a boy, just a child, during the London Blitz. He'd thought he was going to die. He'd vowed to never die feeling so defenceless, like he had that day. He would defeat it, he'd promised.

Rose watched him very carefully, as he arched his neck back, bones cracking, as though his body was bigger on the inside and struggling to break free.

"He's going to change again any minute," Rose stepped forward, whispering, while the man was distracted, arching forward in pain as his backbone seemed to creak.

"I know," the Doctor whispered back. "But if I can get him up into the bell tower somehow, I've an idea that might work."

Rose looked up. Right above them, there was great, gaping hole; the bell tower. How were they going to get him up there?

"You're so sentimental, Doctor," Lazarus half-spat, breathing heavily as he recovered from a spasm. "Maybe you are older than you look."

"I'm old enough to know that a longer life isn't always a better one. In the end you just get tired. Tired of the struggle," the Doctor crouched down, retaining Lazarus' gaze. "Tired of watching everyone turn to dust," he exhaled, still speaking quietly. "If you live long enough Lazarus, you'll be certain to live to see you end up alone."

Rose felt cold. She could spend the rest of her life with him. He'd said that to her, his voice thick with emotion, some time ago. But he would have to watch her wither and die. She had only just started understanding what it could mean to be alone in the world. The Doctor's loneliness, no matter what she thought they meant to each other, would always be absolute.

"That's a price worth paying," Lazarus grated through his teeth.

"…is it?" the Doctor questioned softly.

Lazarus stared down the Doctor a moment, then arched his neck back in pain again, flicking it back forward with a loud 'snap', glaring at the Doctor.

"I will feed soon."

"I'm not going to let that happen."

"You've not been able to stop me so far."

"Leave him Lazarus," Martha stepped past Rose. Rose locked her eyes on Martha. She'd let her thoughts carry her away. What was Martha doing?

"He's old and bitter," Martha stood in front of the two. "I thought you had a taste for fresh meat," she raised her eyebrows.

"Martha, no," the Doctor warned, his eyes jumping between them.

Martha and Lazarus stared at each other a moment. Then he bared his teeth, and Martha ran. She grabbed Rose's arm on her way past, and the pair hastened down the aisle of the church.

"What are we doing?" Rose cried as they ran.

"Giving him some time!" Martha replied hurriedly, speeding them through a side door. They climbed a stone, spiral staircase. Rose could hear the movements of Lazarus behind them. He was still breathing heavily, unsteadily.

With a scream behind them and a crack, Rose doubled her pace. The changed sounds of pursuit were enough to tell her he'd changed into a monster again.

"Rose! Martha! Where are you?" Rose could hear the Doctor calling from below.

At the stop of the stairs was a long hallway. Rose dashed to one of the windows, leaning over and looking down into the belly of the church.

"We're here!" she called out.

The Doctor spun to face her. "Take him to the top, the very top of the bell tower, do you hear me?" he called urgently.

Rose nodded, as Martha pulled her away from the window.

"C'mon!"

There was a crash behind them as they ran long the rafters. Rose braved a glance over her shoulder and saw the transformed scorpion-shaped Lazarus scuttling after them.

They made it to the bell tower. An even greater wash of fear escalated over Rose as she looked around the tiny, octagonal room. They'd come through the only entrance. There was a thin, wooden walkway around the room, with an even thinner, flimsy looking wooden railing. Rose and Martha hurried around the walkway, hands on the railing for support.

"There's no where else to go, we're trapped!" Martha hissed urgently.

"This is where he said to bring him," Rose insisted, searching in all directions for some possible escape route.

"All right, so then we're not trapped. We're bait," Martha snapped.

"He knows what he's doing, we have to trust him," Rose shook her head earnestly. There were hot tears forming in her eyes as she realised there really was no way out. The Doctor wouldn't use her as bait. He wouldn't. He had a plan, she told herself sternly.

"Ladies."

There was a growl, as the Lazarus monster clawed its way into the room, keeping its gaze on them.

"…stay behind me," Martha choked, standing in front of Rose, defending her. "If he takes me, make a run for it," she continued quietly, "head back down the stairs, you should have enough time."

Rose gave Martha an incredulous look. "That's not gonna happen!"

Before they could continue to argue, Lazarus whipped out at them, and they were forced to separate, ducking down as the monster's tail smashed through the railing.

_Why can I hear a pipe organ? _

Rose wondered where it had come from, in the back of her mind, as she tried to make a dash for Martha, her eyes staying on the monster. It lashed its tail out at them again, and Rose fell backwards, out of the way. The tail was aiming for her almost instantly again, and Rose ducked forward this time, diving, stretching out her hands to hold onto the splintering wood around her.

She fell, with a scream, her legs swinging around as the wood of the walkway was destroyed underneath her. In a desperate reel, she grabbed onto the side of the gaping hole with both hands.

"Rose! Hold on!" Martha called out. "Get away from her!" she spat.

Rose looked up into the all-too-human eyes of Lazarus, the monster. The beast was leaning down, considering her.

The pipe organ music was suddenly amplified. The world was shaking. Rose winced, waiting for the soundwaves or Lazarus to be the end of her, when with a growling scream, she felt something massive fall past her with a rush of air.

Rose opened her eyes with a start as the music stopped, and lost her grip. She screamed as gravity took hold--

"I've got you!" Martha grabbed her wrist. "Hold on."

"Rose?" there was an echoing, urgent call from below, from the Doctor.

Martha struggled, helping Rose back onto what remained of the walkway. They sat there a moment, clutching at each other, trying to catch their breath.

"I'm okay," Rose called, still gasping. "We're both okay," she nearly laughed with relief. "Thanks to you," she nodded to Martha.

Martha also nearly burst out laughing beside her. The adrenalin was calming; Rose felt slightly hysterical. She couldn't _believe_ they'd survived that.

* * *

When Martha and Rose descended, they found the Doctor, back to them, leaning over the again naked form of the human Lazarus. The amplified sound of the pipe organ, and the fall, must have killed him. He looked like an old man again. 

The Doctor stood as Martha and Rose drew closer. He turned, his face forlorn – then he spotted them, a wide grin changing his whole face.

Rose ran the last few steps and hugged him. The Doctor swung her around, holding her tightly.

"When'd you learn to play?" Rose's relief at their being alive made her whole face grin as well.

The Doctor shrugged, "Well, you know, you hang around with Beethoven, you're bound to pick a few things up," his eyes shone.

"Hmm, 'specially about playing loud," Martha stepped up beside Rose.

The Doctor stared at her a moment, then put a hand to his ear. "…Sorry?"

Martha and Rose just laughed at him.

* * *

They'd walked Martha back to her apartment. 

After risking so much for them, and saving everyone's lives at great risk to her own, Rose certainly didn't mind when the Doctor asked Martha to come along for another trip with them. She was honest, she trusted them, and Rose found she trusted her.

But Martha had declined, with a slow shake of the head.

"If you'd asked me this morning, I probably would have said yes," she laughed, as Rose frowned. "But I can't. Sorry," she sobered, shifting a little, looking away from them. She indicated some photos on the wall, photos of her family. "I can't leave them," she reasoned to them. "And you don't need me to keep you out of trouble," she turned back to Rose and the Doctor shrewdly.

And, for the second time, they left Martha Jones in her apartment, with goodbyes, promises to call each other, and many, many thank you's.

Rose considered Martha as they closed the door to her apartment, as Martha's busy life made itself evident when her phone started ringing.

"Mum!" Rose heard Martha answer the phone, as they stepped away.

They strolled down the street, back in the general direction of the TARDIS.

"Something else that just kind of escalated, then?" the Doctor said, somewhat ironically.

Rose nodded, not really hearing him.

She understood Martha's decision. Martha had her family, who depended on her, who loved her. She wouldn't abandon that responsibility.

_I just left her._

"Rose," the Doctor spoke, a little warning in his voice. "We can't _make_ her come with us, you know. It would be considered kidnapping."

Rose forced herself to look at him, shaking her head. A few tears flicked onto her cheeks as she faced him.

"It's all right," the Doctor stopped, pulling her into a hug, rubbing her back. "I'm sure we'll see her again, just—"

"No, it's not tha'," Rose gasped shakily into his chest, trying to calm herself. She let out a wobbly breath as the Doctor pulled back, his hands on her shoulders, as he ducked his head to look straight at her.

"Then what is it?"

Rose couldn't look into his eyes - she tore her eyes away from his, looking somewhere over his shoulder, out into the distance. "I…I need to go home."

"Right then!" the Doctor turned quickly, putting an arm around her shoulders. Started walking them again. "Back to the TARDIS and then—"

"No," Rose stopped them, pulling out of his grip, a little frustrated that he was being so dense and not listening to her.

The look he gave Rose when he turned back to her told her he knew _exactly_ what she meant. He was blank, for a moment. She stared up at him, unspeaking. Locking his gaze, now he understood.

His eyes wavered as he opened his mouth, taking an eternity to speak as though searching for words, desperately. "I can't bring your mother back, Rose," he cleared his throat.

"I know," Rose said quickly. "Bu'…Doctor," she gasped, the tears forcing their way through again. "I jus' _left_ her," she threw her hands up. "I left, like she meant _nothin'_ to me."

"She _knew_ you loved her—"

"I still love her," Rose cut in. "Bu'…I…" she paled, unable to say the words _but I love you too_, forcing them back. A sob escaped her instead.

The Doctor's eyes grew even more red and his voice shook, low with passion as he replied, "Then _stay._ Don't leave."

Rose nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. She didn't mean that! "Doctor, I'm never leavin' you, I've told you tha'," she sniffed, a small, exasperated laugh escaping as she shook her head. "I jus' need to go back. Jus' once," she was suddenly embarrassed about facing him, for what she'd nearly told him, but she persevered.

"She didn' have anyone else. Jus' me. I need to…to sort out the house," she tried to steady her breathing. "Do my job an' clean up."

She really looked at him now, her eyes bright, but she was no longer crying. "I jus' need to do this one thing," she half-ordered, half-pleaded. "An' then we can go."

The Doctor just stared at her, hands in his pockets, face a stone mask. His eyes spoke to her of fear and loneliness, and she wondered if he shared her grief, or was remembering his own. She knew he didn't like to stick around for any aftermath, and they hadn't, after the battle that day. But it was time now, time to take responsibility.

He nodded, an understanding nod. Held his hand out to her.

Relief flooded through Rose, hampered only by the intense guilt that had swooped down on her so suddenly after Martha's choice. She gave him her hand.

They walked in silence, back to the Estate. It felt alien to Rose, especially without her mum, or Mickey, there.

She'd been wrong, about calling it home, before. The Powell Estate was no longer her home, and she hoped the Doctor understood that too. She looked up at him, silent, beside her, there for her, when he didn't have to be.

He was her home now.

She squeezed his hand, thanking him for being there.

* * *

_The next episode is 42..._

* * *


	9. Episode 7: 42

_42 _

* * *

They were headed for the mineral springs of Korchah, a place the Doctor assured them they could wind down.

"Bit of a break, bit of R an' R, and you _wait_ until you see the way they've set up the - well," he reconsidered, smiling fondly, then shrugged. "Don't want to spoil it for you. There in a couple of minutes," he dashed to the opposite side of the console.

Rose nodded, sitting back, in her usual spot, a little distracted. Boxes of her stuff, and some of her mum's stuff that she couldn't bare to give away were stacked at one side. The Doctor said he'd find a place for it all later, before venturing the idea of the mineral springs to her, bounding away.

She wanted to finish the job, just to get it over with, but she let him digress. They'd been nearly a day at the Powell Estate, boxing, cataloguing, cleaning, arranging things with the neighbours and saying goodbye. It had likely driven the Doctor mad, all the domestics. One of their neighbours, Tina, hadn't been able to stop questioning Rose either, about what she was going to do with herself now, where she was headed. Rose had answered as non-comitially as possible that she was going to keep travelling.

Rose looked down at her mobile, her finger hovering over the delete key.

'Home', the entry was named. To a number that no longer existed. She'd cut the phone off before they'd left.

She rolled her eyes, chucking her phone back in her pocket, the number still in her address book. She smiled across the console at him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"How long since—" she started.

The TARDIS shook violently, suddenly, and Rose fell forward, grabbing onto the centre console. A quick bleeping, buzzing noise came from somewhere.

"Distress signal!" the Doctor called, grabbing onto the console himself, looking at his monitor. "Locking on!" he reached his foot over to hold a lever down. "Might be a bit of…ah!"

The TARDIS was flung in the opposite direction, and both Rose and the Doctor lost their grip this time.

Rose picked herself up as the TARDIS wound down and stopped rocking. Everything was still.

The Doctor pulled himself back up onto the console, "Turbulence," he winced. "Sorry," he suddenly dashed toward the door. "C'mon, let's have a look."

Rose followed without a word, rubbing her backside. She'd landed on it hard, that time. _Ouch_.

"Whoa! Now _that_ is hot," the Doctor announced.

They'd stepped out into what looked and felt like _hell._ It was hot, really hot, and the heat wave hit Rose before she took in the surroundings; there were inside a room? A small, dark, dank room, with hissing pipes and steam all around them.

"It's like a sauna in here," Rose commented, scrunching up her sleeves. She was sweating, almost immediately.

The Doctor, perspiration also flowing down his neck, walked over to the side of the small room, inspecting something.

"Venting systems," he announced. "Working at full pelt, trying to cool down, uh…" he looked back to her. "Wherever it is we are."

Rose nodded at what looked like a door, scooping her hair back in her hand, unsticking it from her neck. "C'mon, let's get out of here, can't stand this heat."

The Doctor opened the door, a seal cracking with a small creak. He stuck his head around once it was opened.

"That's better," the Doctor stepped into the new room. Rose followed, breathing in the marginally cooler air with relief, dropping her hair back down. It stuck to her neck again.

They were in a corridor, still very industrial, grimy, steel plating and cables everywhere. A sign proclaimed they were in 'Area 30'.

"No sign of any Ood, that's a good start," Rose breathed.

"Oi you two!"

Rose and the Doctor turned. Coming down the corridor at full pelt were three people; a woman and two men.

"Get out of there!" the woman called urgently, leaping over a doorway.

"Seal the door, now!" one of the men ordered, as both men dashed past them, closing access to the room they'd just come from with a hiss.

The woman reached them. She was perspiring furiously, her mouse-coloured hair sticking to her face and neck. "Who are you?" she exhaled heavily, trying to catch her breath. "What are you doing on my ship?"

"Are you police?" the younger of the two men asked, turning back hopefully.

"Why would we be police?" the Doctor asked calmly.

"There was a distress signal--" Rose frowned.

"If this is a ship, why can't we hear any engines?" the Doctor butted in quickly.

The woman, hands on hips, looked away a moment. "It went dead 4 minutes ago."

"So maybe we should stop chattin' an' get to engineering," the older man cut in. "Captain," he raised his eyebrows at the woman, and started to move.

An alarm started to whine.

"_Secure Closure. Active,"_ a recorded voice rang out around them.

"What?" the woman, the Captain of the ship, sounded exasperated.

"The ship's gone mad," the younger man threw his hands up.

"Who activated secure closure?" a voice cried from down the corridor.

Another woman was running toward them. She jumped through one of the doors as it slammed shut.

"I nearly got locked into area twenty-seven," she gave the others a slightly accusing look. She was young, Rose noticed, and wearing mechanics overalls.

The door to Area 30 slammed closed. Rose startled, her attention drawn to it as she jumped. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a glow she'd not seen before. Coming from the side of the ship, out a window. What was that?

"Who are you?" the newcomer asked bluntly.

Rose started moving toward the wall. "He's the Doctor and I'm Rose. Hiya," she didn't look at any of them as she focussed on the bright glow in the window. This was all starting to feel very familiar…what was it going to be, another black hole?

"_Impact projection,"_ the recorded voice called, _"Forty-two minutes, twenty-seven seconds."_

Rose put her hands on the sides of the small window, peering out.

"We'll get out of this. I promise," the Captain told the others.

Rose stared out the window. No, it wasn't a black hole. But… "Doctor?"

"Forty-two minutes until what?" the Doctor asked.

"Doctor!" Rose called, more urgently. "Look!"

He was beside her in an instant. She looked up at him, questioningly. His eyes were growing wider and wider.

"Forty-two minutes until we crash into the sun," the Captain spoke resignedly behind them.

Rose let out a shaky breath, watching it mist on the reinforced glass of the window, evaporating almost instantly in the heat of the great ball of flame they were heading toward.

The Doctor's mouth drew into a straight line, and he turned away.

"How many crew members on board?" he fired at the Captain.

"Seven, including us."

"Transport cargo across the galaxy," the older man started explaining. "Everythin's automated. We just keep the ships-"

"Call the others," the Doctor dashed past them to the door they'd first come through. "I'll get you out."

There were cries of 'Don't!' and 'What's he doing?' from the other crewmembers as the Doctor released the seal of the door.

With a rushed hiss of steam and a cry, the Doctor fell back. Rose rushed to his side, checking he was okay as one of the crewmembers raced forward, closing the door with another hiss.

"But my ship's in there!" the Doctor called, getting back to his feet.

"In the vent chamber?" the young guy asked disbelievingly.

"It's our life boat," the Doctor stepped back toward the door.

"It's lava," the second man muttered.

The young girl that looked like the mechanic took off a red helmet as the door to the room containing the TARDIS sealed finally. "Temperature's going mad in there," she read a dial on the wall. "Up three-thousand degrees in ten seconds and still rising," she turned back and stared at the Captain, almost awaiting orders, her eyes full of fear.

"Channelling the air," the young man agreed. "The closer we get to the sun the hotter that room's going to get."

Rose flashed the Doctor a look; he was staring at the closed door, distressed, then flashed Rose an earnest look. She nodded to him. _C'mon Doctor, get us out of this one_, she thought.

"So," he jumped to action, nodding to the Captain. "We fix the engines, we steer the ship away from the sun. Simple," he pushed past them. "Engineering down here is it?"

"_Impact in forty, twenty-six,"_ the recorded voice replied.

* * *

Engineering was a mess. Someone had sabotaged the engine; there was smoke issuing out of it in acrid coils, and severed cables all over the place. The Doctor moved from the ruined engine to a panel, as the Captain rushed to the intercom, trying to locate the rest of her crew.

"Ohh, we're in the Taragi system," he smiled up at Rose. "Lovely. We're a long way from Earth, Rose. Half a universe away."

Rose _mmed_ a reply.

"You're still using energy scoops for fusion, hasn't that been outlawed yet?" the Doctor turned to the Captain.

"We're due for upgrade next docking," she said hurriedly, moving away from the intercom; the others weren't responding. She didn't look at the Doctor or Rose as she pushed past them. "Scannell? Engine report!" she ordered.

The older guy, who must have been Scannell, walked over to the terminal the Doctor had been on a moment ago. Leant over it, pushing at glyphs on the screen. Rose heard a couple of 'blee-blop' noises from the panel.

"No response," Scannell shook his head, walking around the engine in frustration.

"What?" the Captain said quietly, again in disbelief, stepping up to the panel and trying the controls herself.

Rose wondered how the person supposedly running the vessel could know so little about what it was doing.

Scannell was holding a torch to a couple of cables, before he threw them away in disgust. "They're burnt out," he called back to them. "The controls are wrecked, I can't get 'em back online."

"Oh, come on," the Doctor scathed. "Auxiliary engines! Every craft's got auxiliaries."

"We don't' have access from here," the Captain told him hurriedly. "The auxiliary control's at the front of the ship."

"And twenty-nine password sealed doors between us an' them," Scannell added. "You'd never get there on time."

"Can't we override the doors?" Rose piped up, thinking of the sonic screwdriver. It could unlock just about anything--

"No, sealed closure means what it says, they're all deadlock sealed," Scannell fired back.

"So a sonic screwdriver's no use," the Doctor looked up to her, his face serious.

"Nothing's any use," Scannell kicked the engine. "We've got no engines, no time and no chance!"

"Oh listen to you," the Doctor berated. "Defeat before you've even started. Where's your Dunkirk spirit? Who's got the door passwords?" he asked the room.

"They're randomly generated," the young guy stepped forward. "Reckon I'd know most of them, though. Sorry, Riley Vashtee," he introduced himself to the Doctor.

"Well what are you waiting for, Riley Vashtee, get on it," the Doctor nodded to him.

Riley moved to a wall, started taking down some equipment. "It's a two person job. One to take this for the questions," he strung a backpack over his shoulders. "The other, to carry this," he took down a weighty-looking clamp. "The oldest and cheapest security system around, hey Captain?" he winked.

"Reliant and simple, just like you eh Riley?" the Captain nodded.

"Try to be helpful, get abuse," he adjusted the straps on his shoulders. "Nice."

"I'll help," Rose stepped forward, grabbing the clamp. It was heavy, but not impossible.

Riley nodded to her and dashed for the door. Rose followed, clamp in both hands.

"Rose," the Doctor called.

She turned back.

"Be careful," he nodded quietly.

Rose nodded seriously in reply. "You too."

Riley and Rose hurried into the hallway, Riley plugging the backpack into something, swinging it around onto a platform. Rose put the clamp on the same platform, waiting for orders.

The Doctor and the Captain ran past them after a moment, in the opposite direction. On some sort of job themselves. Rose forced herself to focus on what Riley was doing.

"_Impact in thirty-four, thirty-one,"_ the ships computer reported. _"Heat shields, failing, at twenty-five minutes." _

Riley was typing for a moment longer, at a speed unfathomable to Rose. How was he hitting the right keys that fast?

"All right," he muttered quietly, then stepped away from the laptop-thing, pointing at the clamp. "Press the clamp on the door!"

Rose did as instructed, pressing a circular end to the middle of the door. "What are you doing?"

Riley called over his shoulder as he went back to typing, tapping the screen occasionally as well. "Each door's trip code's the answer to a random question set by the crew," he grinned up at Rose. "Nine turns back, we got drunk, thought 'em up," proudly. "Reckoning was, if we're hijacked, we're the only ones who know all the answers."

"So you type in the righ' answer from there?" she prompted.

"This," he indicated the computer, "sends an unlock pulse to the clamp," he typed ferociously again, his eyes scanning the screen. "But we only get one chance per door," he turned a dial on the side of the box. "Get it wrong, the whole system freezes."

"Better not get it wrong then," Rose muttered.

"Okay," with triumph, Riley put his hands either side of the screen, and then read; 'Date of S.S. Pentallian's first flight?' That's all right," he typed the answer confidently.

Rose looked down at the clamp as there was a swift 'beep-beep-beep' noise, and the lights at the top of the clamp turned from red to green.

"Go!" Riley grabbed the laptop in his arms, pulling out the cables.

With a final longer beep, and a hiss of a seal breaking, the door opened.

"Yes!" Rose grinned, taking the weight of the clamp in her arms again.

Riley dashed past her. "Twenty-eight more to go!"

Rose hurried after him. Riley had the laptop already up on the platform and plugged in by the time Rose set the clamp in place.

The Doctor's voice came over the intercom. _"Rose, Riley, how you doing?"_

"Area twenty-nine at the door to twenty-eight," Rose called out, weighing the clamp against her legs as she held the handle and waited.

"_You've got to move faster!"_

"We're goin' as fast as we can," Rose called back.

Riley was reading from the screen again. "'Find the next number in the sequence. Three-one-three, three-three-one, three-six-seven.' What?" he gave Rose a panicked look.

Rose had wondered if this would happen – they _had_ put the system in place when they were drinking. "You said the crew knew all the answers," she whispered.

"The crew's changed since we set the questions," Riley shrugged helplessly.

"You have _got_ to be kiddin' me," Rose rested her head against the door. What were they going to do?

"_Three-seven-nine,"_ the Doctor's voice sounded out over the intercom again, echoing about the chamber.

"What?" Rose looked up.

"_It's a sequence of happy primes. Three-seven-nine,"_ he repeated.

"Happy what?" Rose called back.

"_Just enter it!"_

"Are you sure," Riley insisted. "We only get one chance."

The Doctor's answer was very rushed, Rose could barely make out his explanation.

"_Any number that reduces to one when you take the sum of the square of its digits, you continually trace it til it yields one is a happy number, any number that doesn't isn't, a happy prime is a number that's both happy and prime, now type it in!" _

Riley startled a little, did as he was told.

Rose watched the clamp. What if it wasn't right?

'Bleep-bleep-bleep!'

The lights turned green.

Rose grinned, exhaling a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You did it!" she called out excitedly.

"_Keep moving, fast as you can,"_ the Doctor's voice came again as Rose and Riley hurried to the next door. _"And…Rose,"_ he said with some hesitance. _"Be careful. There may be something else on board the ship."_

* * *

"Hello?"

"Martha! Martha, it's me, Rose," Rose spoke quickly into her phone, relief pouring over her that the girl wasn't on the phone to anyone else at that moment.

"Rose? Where are you, you guys all right?"

"Actually," Rose looked around the chamber. "Bit busy, need you to look somethin' up for me on the internet."

"Okay…" Martha Jones sounded taken aback, but didn't further question Rose. Rose was thankful. "Just…going to the computer now. Fire away."

"Who had more number ones, the Beatles or Elvis?"

"What--?" Martha half laughed down the line.

"Please!" Rose cut in urgently before she could continue.

"All right, all right. What is this, some intergalactic pub quiz?"

"Sort of," Rose closed her eyes.

There was silence a moment, then, "There's loads of results, just give me a minute."

"_Impact in twenty-eight, fifty,"_ rang out in the chamber, then another voice, low, growling, almost straight after it.

"_Burn with me."_

Rose shot Riley a scared look.

"Elvis."

"What?" Rose shook herself, lifting the phone back to her mouth. "Really? Elvis!" she told Riley.

"_Burn with me." _

Riley typed the entry into the laptop, and with another welcome 'bleep-bleep-bleep', they were through the door.

Rose hurried toward the next door. "Martha, thank you!" she cried into the phone. "You did it!"

"Hey, no worries, are you going to tell me what it's really for—"

Martha's question was cut off by a long, drawn out, painful scream, echoing over the intercom.

"What was that?" Martha asked quickly.

"…I've gotta go," Rose ended the call, looking with horror down the corridor. "Doctor!" she called into the intercom. "What was that?"

After a moment; _"Concentrate on those doors, you gotta keep moving forward!"_

Rose tried to forget the screaming, locking the clamp onto the next door.

Riley typed away furiously beside her.

* * *

The intercom was getting a lot of use.

"_Everybody listen to me," _the Captain's voice issued a command over it._ "Something has infected Korwin," _shesounded hesitant_. "We think…he killed Abi Lerner. None of you must go anywhere near him, is that clear?" _

'Bleep-bleep-bleep.'

"Doctor, we're through to area seventeen," Rose reported, trying to ignore the thought of someone on the ship going around killing people. Like they didn't have better things to do.

"_Keep going. You've got to get to area one and reboot those engines!" _

"C'mon!" Riley hit the side of the laptop in frustration. "Everything on this ship is so cheap!" he cursed.

There was a 'clang' down the corridor.

"Who's there?" Riley's head snapped to the doorway into area eighteen.

Rose tried to see through the steam coming from the previous room. It was no good, it was too thick. She put the clamp down, stepping up behind Riley.

A man materialised out of the steam, and stood in the doorway, wearing a red helmet.

"Is tha'…Korwin?" Rose asked Riley quietly.

"Oh, Ashton," Riley sounded relieved as the man stepped into the room. "What are you doing?"

The red-helmeted Ashton stopped just inside area seventeen.

"Burn with me."

"If you wanna help-" Riley held his hand out, nodding back to the laptop.

"Burn with me! Burn with me!" Ashton grated, as though not hearing Riley at all. He put his hand to a knob by the black visor on the helmet.

"Move!" Rose jumped into action, hitting a panel on a door at the side of the chamber. "C'mon!" she dove through. Riley hurried after her, dashed to the back of the room, and hit another panel. The red door slid shut after them.

Rose watched the doorway, wondering if he'd just go away since he couldn't get to them. A red-helmeted person stepped up to fill the small, circular window in the door. He knocked on the door.

Riley snapped into action, pressing a pin into a keypad, opening another door at the back of the smaller room.

A hatchway opened. Rose lifted her leg up and climbed through. Riley was right after her, then closed the hatch.

A second door slid over the hatch, a thick sort of glass.

"What is happening on this ship?" Riley leaned back in the tiny chamber they'd entered, hand on his head.

"Where are we?" Rose asked him quickly. There were no exits, just a couple of benches, a few keypad panels, and very little room to move.

"_Airlock sealed, jettison escape pod,"_ the ships computer announced.

Panic struck Rose as she looked at a wide-eyed Riley. He jumped forward, crawling to the control panel.

"We're in an escape pod?" Rose squeaked.

Riley was furiously punching codes into a keypad and didn't answer.

Rose turned back to the small window in the pod. The red-helmeted Ashton was still standing there. "Doctor!" she called.

"_Jettison initiated."_

* * *

Rose had put a frantic message through the intercom in the hope that the Doctor was listening. There hadn't been any reply. Riley had continued to punch numbers into the little black keypad, holding the jettison temporarily, before the possessed Ashton worked out the code and started it all over again.

It wasn't long until Riley startled back from the controls, panic in his eyes as he announced that Ashton had crashed the circuits.

"_Airlock sealed."_

Rose ran her hands around the hatchway desperately looking for a way out.

"_Airlock decompression completed. Jettisoning pod."_

Rose tapped on the glass helplessly. The red helmet was no longer at the window on the other side of the ship door.

Before she could wonder at this, the Doctor's face appeared at the window.

Relief. He was there!

"Doctor!" Rose called, banging on the hatch.

Rose saw his mouth move, but she couldn't hear him.

"Rose. It's too late," Riley leaned back, defeated, behind her.

"Doctor!" she called again. It was never too late. He was there. He could stop it.

The Doctor called something again, he looked like he was shouting.

Why was he just standing there? "I can't hear you," Rose cried, pressing her nose and palms against the glass.

He stayed at the window, staring at Rose, his mouth still moving in words she couldn't make out, as the airlock closed over the gap in the ship.

Rose watched it seal, realisation dawning on her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered back at him. She couldn't see the Doctor any more.

"Oh, the wonderful world of space travel," Riley joined her at the pod window. "Prettier it looks, the more likely it is to kill you;" ironically.

"He'll come for us," Rose breathed shakily, watching the ship for signs.

Riley shook his head. "It's too late," he said, somewhat gently. "The heat shield'll pack in any minute, then we go into free fall," he told her. "We'll fall into the sun way before he has a chance to do anything."

Rose shook her head in reply, taking a gasp for breath. "You don't know 'im," she persisted. "I believe in 'im."

"Then you're lucky," Riley shrugged. "I've never found anyone worth believing in."

* * *

They'd talked about their families. Riley's life was quite like Rose's, she thought. Dad dead, no brothers or sisters. Only his mum, who he didn't talk to that much. She hadn't wanted him to go into cargo, and he hadn't seen her in six years.

"What about you?" Riley had turned to Rose.

Rose blinked a little, her eyes turning down. What about her? She shook her head in response. _It's just me and him, now._

Something in her lack of reply must have conveyed a message to Riley, because he pulled her into a hug.

They stayed that way a moment, clinging to one another.

Then something bleeped in the pod, and they were thrown backward.

Rose recovered quickly, crawling to the window, wiping her eyes. She hadn't realised she'd been weeping.

She gaped, a laugh escaping her. "We're being pulled back!"

She looked back at Riley, unable to suppress her relieved grin. The tears were back.

"I told you!" she laughed. "He did it!"

* * *

Whatever the Doctor had done to pull the escape pod back to the ship had hurt him. They'd found him, in a space-suit, crawling on his stomach in the middle of the corridor.

Rose had hurried to him, the relief and thanks in her mind being flooded by terror as she saw him wincing in pain, throwing himself against a wall.

"Stay away from me!" he grated, his eyes clenched shut, his face covered in shiny perspiration.

Rose startled at his tone, then jumped forward, grabbing his shoulders. "Doctor!" she called to him, shaking him a little. "Doctor, what's wrong?"

"What's happened?"

Rose turned to see the Captain had run to meet them, and stopped beside Riley.

"It's your fault, Kath McDonnell," the Doctor grated in a low, hateful voice Rose hadn't heard him use before.

"Riley," Captain McDonnell ordered quickly. "Get down to area ten and help Scannell with the doors. Go!"

Rose tried to hold the Doctor, stop him from thrashing about, but he was too strong. He cried out, pushing Rose away from him. She fell back onto the floor, shocked, unsure how to help.

"You mined that sun," he screamed. "Scooped its surface for cheap fuel," he was breathing very quickly. "You should have scanned for life!"

"I don't understand," McDonnell said hurriedly.

"What do you mean?" Rose asked him carefully.

He was writhing, struggling, back and forth. "That sun's alive. A living organism!" he explained. "They scooped out its heart!"

Rose shot McDonnell a look. The woman was shaking her head in disbelief.

"Used it for fuel and now it's screaming!" the Doctor continued.

"What do you mean, how can a sun be alive, why's he saying that?" McDonnell pleaded.

"Because it's living in me," he grated.

"Oh my god," Rose hurried forward again to him. She had to help him, no matter how many times he pushed her away.

"Humans!" the Doctor screamed. "You rob whatever's nearest and bleed it dry!" he arched back, his head banging against the wall, hard. Rose shuddered, trying to lift his head back.

"You should have scanned!"

"It takes too long, we'd be caught," the Captain explained weakly. "Fusion scoops are illegal."

The Doctor leaned back in agony, again, then spoke in a voice nearer his own, still full of anger. "Rose, you've got to freeze me - quickly."

"What?" she shook her head, placing a hand on his head, pushing his sticking to his sweating forehead back with her thumb.

"Stasis chamber," he fired.

Rose nodded, turning to Captain McDonnell for an explanation.

"Gotta keep it below minus two hundred," the Doctor continued. "Freeze it out of me!" he cried, lurching forward.

Rose grabbed a hold of him, trying to make him stand.

"It'll use me to kill you if you don't," he managed, a hand on the wall as Rose pulled him to his feet. "The closer we get to the sun, the stronger it –!" he stopped, screaming again. "Med centre! Quickly! Quickly!"

"Help me!" Rose called to the dumbstruck McDonnell.

The Captain nodded, shaking herself and grabbing the Doctor's other arm. The hurried to the med centre.

"_Impact in seven, thirty." _

* * *

Rose had no idea what she was doing, and Kath McDonnell was being no help at all, flailing around desperately. Rose forced panic to the back of her mind as she raced to the stasis chamber, pressing 2-0-0 on the keypad.

The Doctor screamed, knelt on the ground. "Rose, where are you?" his eyes were still tightly shut.

She hurried back to his side. "Stasis chamber, minus two hundred, righ'?" she leaned him over the platform at the front of the stasis chamber.

"But you don't know how this equipment works, you'll kill him," McDonnell told her urgently. "Nobody can survive those temperatures."

"If he says he can, then he can!" Rose fired back at her, leaning over the Doctor.

"Ten seconds," he panted. "That's all I'll be able to take—" he let out another scream of torture.

"It's burning me up, I can't control it!" he cried, gripping Rose's arms suddenly, his fingers digging into her. "If you don't get rid of it I could kill you. I could kill you all," he rasped, then twisted. "I'm scared. I'm so scared!"

Rose twisted her arm until she could grip one of his hands with both of hers. "Doctor, I'll save you," she promised. "You saved me, you save me all the time, now it's my turn," she stressed. "Jus' _believe_ in me."

"It's burning through me," he groaned, his breaths coming very quickly now.

"No, you'll beat it—" Rose gripped his hand tighter.

"I'll regenerate," he threw his head back, screaming again.

"No, you won't," Rose resolved. She wouldn't let him die like this. "You ready?"

"No!" the Doctor cried.

She had to let go of his hand. She didn't want to – she watched as his hand reached out blindly, grabbing for her again, as soon as she'd let go. She pushed the lever next to her, sending the platform, with the Doctor on it, into the stasis chamber. He was writhing, crying out, burning.

Rose pressed the green 'enter' key on the keypad. The screen flashed bluely that cryofreeze was in progress. The temperature marker started to plummet.

The Doctor's screams got louder and louder. Rose held her hands over her mouth, forcing herself to stay in control, to not lose it at his screams, convincing herself that this was the only possible way to save him.

It was agony, watching him being tortured from inside and out. She couldn't help but let out a sob as the temperature dropped faster and faster and the Doctor's scream cut through her.

At minus seventy, the screen switched itself off. There was a hum in the air, a powering down noise.

"No," the Doctor called tiredly from the stasis chamber. "Rose you can't stop it, not yet."

"What's happened?" Rose rushed to the panel, then looked back at McDonnell questioningly.

"Power's been cut in engineering," she replied quietly.

"Why?" Rose yelled at her.

McDonnell didn't seem to hear her, her eyes on the door. "Leave it to me," she dashed off.

Rose turned back to the keypad. It made noises, but nothing was working, the screen was blank. She could hear the Doctor moaning in the chamber, muttering words she could barely understand.

"Rose, listen," he gasped suddenly, "I've only got a moment, you've got to go."

Rose ignored the request. He always did this, always tried to send her away. No.

He groaned a little. "Get to the front," he explained. "Vent the engines. The sun particles in the fuel, get rid of them."

Rose hesitated, then shook her head. "I am not leaving you," she called, pressing the keypad buttons in effort to get the system started again.

"You've got to! Give back what they took!"

She looked down. If they gave the sun back its particles, wouldn't it stop? It would release him, right?

"Please, go!" the Doctor screamed.

Rose scrambled to her feet, leaned into the chamber. "I'm coming straigh' back for you, go' it?"

* * *

"_Impact in four, oh-eight." _

Rose ran the length of the ship, leaping over each doorway. The intercom was getting another workout, as she ran. McDonnell, saying she was sorry. The ship, reporting that the exterior airlock was open. Scannell calling McDonnell's name in question.

Rose didn't stop running. She knew, somewhere on the ship, McDonnell had just said goodbye.

She leaped over another doorway into area four.

"_Rose."_

The Doctor's voice on the intercom made her stop in her tracks.

"Doctor, what are you doing?" she called back.

"_I can't fight it,"_ his voice was roaring. _"Give it back! Burn with me, Rose."_

Burn with me? Rose propelled herself forward, a part of her mind in disbelief that she was fleeing the Doctor. He wasn't himself, she had to get the sun's mind out of him.

"_Life support systems reaching critical. Repeat, life support systems reaching critical. Impact in one, oh-six. Collision alert. Collision alert."_

"It's not working!" Rose could hear Riley screaming from the engine room. "Why's it not working?"

She leaped into the room. "Vent the engines. Dump the fuel!" she called.

"What?" Scannell fired.

"There's sun particles in the fuel, get rid of them," Rose ordered. "Do it! Now!" her cry echoed.

Riley and Scannell jumped into action, running down the length of the engines, turning knobs. The ship's running commentary reported a fuel dump was in progress. Rose wrapped her arms around a railing as the ship was thrown around.

With a soft _boom_, the engines wound up.

"_Impact averted. Impact averted." _

Rose scrambled to her feet. Riley and Scannell were grinning across the room at each other.

"We got just enough reserves," Riley reported.

Riley and Scannell hugged each other in relief, laughing.

Rose turned, her smile fading. "Doctor!" she whispered.

She ran.

Ran back down the length of the ship. He _had _to be all right.

Pleasure flooded her as she saw him getting to his feet, down the way. She started laughing, and ran into him, throwing her arms around his neck.

He was laughing as well as he hugged her back.

* * *

Scannell was wandering warily around the TARDIS. Swearing that he'd never seen a ship like it.

"Compact, isn't she?" the Doctor stepped up to the door. "And robust," he tapped the front panel fondly. "Barely a scorch mark on her."

The TARDIS was fine. Rose and the Doctor were leaving Scannell and Riley, who assured them that they'd sent out a mayday and authorities were on their way.

Rose hugged Riley goodbye fiercely, insisting that he would find someone to believe in, one day.

"I already have," Riley winked back at her.

Rose blushed, and followed the Doctor into the TARDIS, closing the door behind her.

She turned to him, the smile on her face evaporating.

He was standing there, unmoving, looking down at the console.

"Are you all righ'?"

The Doctor slowly turned to her. He wasn't smiling. He looked quite pale. He flicked a switch. "So, mineral lakes of Korchah?" he turned back to the console.

Rose frowned, stepping up beside him. "Doctor…" she trailed off, leaning against the console so she could look him in the eye. She waited.

He wasn't really watching what he was doing, she could tell. He fiddled a couple of dials idly, and she rested a hand on his arm.

"I'm here," she spoke quietly, insistently.

The Doctor looked to the top of the console, exhaling. He ran a hand over the back of his neck, rubbing it a moment. Then turned to her, blinking slowly, just once.

"Big day;" quietly.

Rose huffed. Understatement of the year.

"Nearly lost you," he continued lightly, nodding.

"Nearly lost you too," Rose nodded as well.

The Doctor _hmmed_, then moved away. "I'm sorry," he spoke again, flicking a switch. He looked up to her from the other side of the console. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Before."

"S'all righ'," Rose jumped off the console, making her way to her usual seat, and flopping down onto it. The springs bounced a little. "You didn't hurt me."

"There's bruises, all down your arm, Rose, I can see them," he grated, both hands resting on the controls. She saw him, but didn't hear him, curse.

Rose paled a little, watching him. He knew it wasn't his fault, right? That thing, it had possessed him, he hadn't been in control.

He looked up into the green, pulsing inner console. He looked sad, scared, all over again.

The Doctor had many faces, many moods, but she only felt fear around him, the real him and not the possessed him, when he was afraid. It wasn't even fear _of_ him, it was something else, a feeling in the pit of her stomach, worse than any evil in the universe, ready to tear her apart.

She thought desperately for a way to distract him out of his reverie.

"So…what's these mineral springs like?" she cleared her throat. "Should I go find my bathin' suit? I don' even know if I brough' one," she considered, and shrugged. "Migh' have to go it withou'."

The Doctor lowered his head, regarding her blankly, for just a flicker of a moment. Then he laughed at her, softly, shaking his head. "You do _that_, Rose Tyler, you'll get us _both_ arrested."

Rose caught herself, spluttering. "I didn' mean nothin' at all!" she laughed, wanting to throw something at him.

The ice broken, the Doctor teased Rose all the way to Korchah, as Rose, red-faced, dug through the boxes at the back of the room, searching for her bikini. It had to be in there somewhere.

* * *

_The next episode is Human Nature…  
_

* * *


	10. Episode 8: Human Nature

_HUMAN NATURE_

_Paul Cornell's Human Nature was such a favourite of mine last season and so I've tried to do his themes justice in a different form; his Human Nature allowed us to see the world through Smith's eyes. The same world through Rose's eyes…well, you'll see what I came up with. _

…_I'm really nervous about this episode. I loved writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it._

* * *

Boredom. Complete boredom. Day in, day out. Miss Tyler, can you find me this book? Miss Tyler, can you translate this passage into Latin? Miss Tyler, have you catalogued yesterday's newspapers? 

Life on the TARDIS had _definitely_ spoiled her.

'Miss Tyler' straightened her back, letting out a long sigh. She'd been crouched over the desk again, a hand on her forehead, holding her fringe back. Not a pretty posture, and certainly not one she should be seen in. She re-inked her pen idly. Turned her eyes down to the blank paper.

_Dear Aunt Harriet_, she wrote in slow, deliberate and florid cursive. It had taken ages to get the hang of, but she had it, finally, down to an art.

_My position at Farringham wearies me. The hours are long and the demands, high. Were it not for mother and father's_…

She paused, consulting a thesaurus by her side for a word for _constant_…

_Incessant_ was scribbled down. Another pause. She flicked the thesaurus' pages. Word for _teaching_…there!

_--tutelage during my girlhood before their…_

She stopped again, trying to think how to make the letter sound more authentic. Girlhood? Did people even use that word, ever?

She shrugged. Did it really matter? It was penned now. If she analysed every word the letter would never be finished. It was only insurance, and she was only bothering because she was so, incredibly _bored_, yet had learned in the past two months the hard way that if she didn't always _look_ busy, the headmaster would find her more work, usually involving reorganising dusty old chronicles that nobody cared about.

And…yes, she answered herself. It did matter. She inwardly groaned, rising and walking to the bookshelves, lugging down an Oxford dictionary.

She had to keep the charade up. For him.

She stood amongst the shelves, flipping the pages with her index finger, aware that she'd not had to prompt herself to walk, or stand, with her shoulders straight, this time.

"Huh," she huffed, pointing to a spot in the dictionary. _Girlhood_ was a real word. She'd even used it in the right context. Well, what other context could there be, really?

Rose rolled her eyes. She was going native, and turning into a librarian. That was scary. She replaced the book, and turned to her desk.

And jumped back with a squeak.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!"

The Doctor was standing at the end of the aisle, a couple of books in arm, looking bashful, wearing a mortarboard and black academic gown over a grey suit.

Rose caught her breath, smiling back at him, trying not to laugh because she'd just embarrass him. She was glad it was him.

"No, I'm sorry Mr Smith, my mind was not with me," she walked past him, back to her desk, taking her seat. Did they really have to speak like this? It took a lot of concentration. This entire escapade had been a lesson in concentration, and patience. Two virtues Rose hadn't had much of before.

"How can I help?" she asked, in more her usual voice. _And how long until you take me away from this?_

The Doctor…no, Mr Smith, Rose reminded herself, paused a moment looking thoughtful, before taking a step forward, "Ah, yes, right," he put the books on the front of her desk. "My humble mission, to return these to you."

Rose smiled. The thoughtful, sometimes queried reveries he occasionally fell into, for only moments, were signs that her Doctor was still in there.

"Thank you very much," she drew the books nearer her, opening the top one's cover and looking about her desk for her pen to write the returned date on the card.

Mr Smith was still standing in front of her desk, his hands in his pockets now. Rose waited, watching expectantly. _I know you want to remember but I can't let you._

"Is everything all right?" she asked him quietly.

He turned his eyes up to hers with a small, almost untraceable startle, as though he'd been caught out at something.

"It's just that…" he trailed off.

Rose gave him a supportive look, closing the book and folding her hands on top of it, waiting. If he was going to spill any memory beans, it was best he did it in front of her.

"Sorry," the Doctor shook his head, leaning back against the end of one of the tall bookshelves that dominated the room. "Sorry," he repeated. "It's just…sometimes I have these _extraordinary_ dreams."

Rose blinked. Was that_ all_?

"It's…I, I just wouldn't want you to take this the wrong way," he gibbered as explanation when he didn't elaborate.

She nodded encouragingly, her interest growing, though she tried not to show it. "I'm sure you wouldn't be capable of saying anything that might upset me," she ensured. Not with John Smith's polite brain, anyway. The real Doctor, yeah, he could be rude, but it wasn't him standing in front of her now, was it?

It was so odd, having him unsure about what he was saying. The Doctor always seemed to just blurt out whatever came into his head at the time. He was so different…

"I dream I'm this…" he trailed off, searching for a word, crossing his arms. "eh…adventurer," he tested. "This…daredevil. A madman," he half laughed. "The Doctor, I'm called."

Rose's heart began to beat a little faster. What did it mean if he was remembering, all on his own? He'd had that wondering look on his face every now and then when they chatted, but he hadn't mentioned dreams or his real self before to her.

"And," he hesitated, flickering an uncertain look at Rose, "for some time now, I dreamt…that you were there. As my…companion," he shook his head. He seemed even more embarrassed, his eyes not meeting hers.

Rose tried to stop her cheeky smile from developing. "You're dreaming about _me_, Mr Smith?"

"And this," said quickly, frowning, in a pensive tone as he ran his finger over a silver fob watch on Rose's desk. "This watch."

Her eyes widened. How could she have been so stupid?

"_Take this watch. 'Cause my life depends on it. This watch, Rose. This watch is me." _

Rose hastily picked up the watch, standing to secure it with a 'click' to the chain on her pinstriped waistcoat, then tucking it into her front pocket. She patted her waistcoat down, folded her hands in front of her again and remained standing.

"I'm sorry—" she began in a short, quiet tone, bowing her head slightly.

"No-no-no, don't apologise," the Doc – _Smith_, cut in hurriedly. "I quite understand," he gave her a genuinely poignant look. "It was your father's, wasn't it? I remember him wearing it."

Rose relaxed a little. Yes. Good save, Doctor. Still helping her help him, even when he wasn't aware he was doing it.

She nodded, flicking him a glance that must have come off sadder than she'd intended it too.

Mr Smith also relaxed, a more familiar recognition in his eyes as he continued, his voice carrying compassion. "Such a terrible loss," he spoke in an undertone. "Peter and Jacqueline were such dear, dear friends of mine."

Rose nearly lost it with a nervous laugh that was bubbling to the surface at this, but she bit her tongue. It was her own fault, she had to maintain it.

"_Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything. Invent a life story for me, find me a setting and integrate me. Can't do the same for you. You'll just have to improvise. I should have just enough residual awareness to let you in."_

"But trust me, Miss Tyler," Smith continued with more confidence. "It will become easier, with time. Time, and distraction, is all you need. Never let the mind grow idle."

"Please, I have asked you to call me Rose," she half laughed at him. She _so_ wanted to poke fun at him, at this bit of wisdom. She was missing out on _so many_ teasing opportunities, she should have been keeping count for later. Him, Mr ponder-pants reverie himself, cautioning her to not let her mind wander!

He shook his head, laughing somewhat bashfully, "And I continue to tell you that it wouldn't be appropriate of me to do so."

She let it go, for fear of messing up her story. The Doctor believed that they had been neighbours, all her life. That he had watched her grow up, the only daughter of Peter and Jacqueline Tyler and heir to the Powell Estate. She'd worried that he'd see right through it, but he'd been so suggestive, when he'd come around after the…process.

After Rose had planted her back-story, the Doctor had let her in, with much residual awareness, that he must have attributed to their apparent history.

The job at Farringham's School had been simple. The TARDIS had integrated the Doctor into his teaching job here. But the TARDIS hadn't abandoned Rose, when they'd put her on standby in a deserted shed in the woods.

Rose could still translate any language in her head, without even thinking about it. After displaying this 'cunning aptitude for languages', and some help from the psychic paper, she'd been given the library as her domain, as they had been without a proper librarian for some years and the teachers had been trying to keep track of the mess themselves, quite unsuccessfully. She'd had to raid some teacher's rooms initially, to track down all the lost and forgotten books they'd stashed away.

"Rose," Smith chuckled to himself quietly, almost in whisper, shaking his head.

Rose made eye contact, smiling a question. They'd both been caught in idleness, again. But he'd done it; he'd called her Rose, instead of Miss Tyler.

Mr Smith's eyes blinked a little as he seemed to realise he _had_ spoken aloud. "You have changed, so much, Rose. They would be very proud," he smiled warmly, moving away from the bookshelf and toward the door. "I bid you good morning," he nodded, walking from the room.

Rose sat down slowly, again wondering exactly what could have been going through his head. What would it be like? Remembering only fragments of a past you were lead to believe was true, dreaming about one that seemed impossible? At least it wasn't going to last forever.

Finding her pen and inking in the return date, '10th Nov, 1913' on Mr Smith's returned books, a smile played on her lips.

It was a dull, monotonous life, with its moments of brightness. Brightness that promised greater things, in a month's time. One more month, she repeated to herself. Then back into the fast lane.

* * *

Rose lugged an armful of books, tired of waiting for that no-good Jeremy Baines brat to come collect them for the science teacher. She wanted to get to the pub sometime before midnight. 

"Afternoon, Miss Tyler!" a merry voice called behind her.

She turned to the voice, dropping a couple from the load as she did. "Evening, Matron," Rose smiled cordially to Joan Redfern, the school Matron, walking towards her.

"Here, let me help you," she stopped in front of Rose, picking up the fallen books and placing them on the pile in Rose's arms. "Goodness me, look at them all. Why didn't you get one of the students to help you, you're not an errand girl you know?"

Rose leaned against the wall, joggling the books a little to make them more comfortable. "Ah, it's all right," she rolled her eyes. "Rather than wait for Baines to remember," she nodded to the books and left it at that.

"Busily studying, no doubt," Joan's eyes sparkled in an unsaid joke.

_More likely out beating people up,_ Rose thought to herself, but nodded and smiled, as was expected.

Joan's humour calmed. "How are you feeling this week? I had meant to check with you a few days ago. No more signs of that nasty cold, I hope?"

Rose shook her head. Not since she'd been back to the TARDIS med-lab, anyway.

"Such a remarkable recovery," Joan continued.

"All thanks to your swift and proper treatment," Rose nodded then turned to continue her original path to the science teacher's office.

Joan fell into step beside her. Rose didn't mind; she was a very kind woman, reminding Rose of a character out of Pride and Prejudice; all politeness and propriety. Perhaps Jane? She couldn't remember which character, really; she'd been somewhat occupied by Colin Firth when she'd watched it.

Joan was the only other woman working in the school, apart from the maids, and Rose had looked to her as a guide on how she was to behave, when they'd first arrived. The lesson learned from the Matron had been a simple one; be courtesy itself to everybody.

"How has your week been?" Rose made conversation. "Any exciting new injuries?" she quested in mock conspiracy.

Joan laughed as they walked down the stairs. "Oh, no, certainly nothing worth mentioning! All superficial scrapes and bruises."

"That's boys for you, isn't it?" Rose commented, spying something new on the noticeboard. She stepped toward it to get a better look.

"Indeed," Joan agreed, eyes also turning to the notice.

A poster, advertising the annual village dance – tomorrow night? Why hadn't Rose heard of this sooner? She'd have taken up the opportunity to gatecrash a Slitheen banquet she was so desperate for something to break the monotony.

Rose's eyes shone a little. "A dance? What's it like, have you been before?"

"Oh, it's nothing formal, just a bit of fun really," Joan replied, somewhat fragmented. "I haven't been asked in years."

Rose gave her a sideways smirk. "Can't we just turn up, though? We don't really have to have a man on our arm to get in, do we?"

Joan looked somewhat uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I hardly think that would be appropriate, Miss Tyler."

She let her smile drop, into a respectful nod. "Pardon me."

"That's quite all right," Joan returned, still a little oddly. "I expect dances were a slight more frequent and modern for you in Nottingham. It must indeed be difficult for you in a new place all on your own."

Rose chose not to comment on this, turning back to the poster. Dance or no dance, she needed to get out.

"I am surprised that nobody has asked you to go," Joan continued, some normality returning to her voice.

Rose shook her head. "And you?"

Joan shook her head as well. "I am the furthest image of a man's idea of a date," she said under her breath, trying to make the words sound lighter than they weighed. "But you are young, and pretty; if no one has asked you, what chance is there for me?" she sounded friendly, but there was pain there.

"Ah, you'd still be able to pull, wha' you on about?" Rose chided, then caught herself. The words had hurried out of her. She was getting too comfortable with Joan-y.

"I beg your pardon?" Joan sounded more confused than affronted.

"Nothing, sorry, long day," Rose shook her head hastily, searching for a change of subject. She spotted a student, walking the hallway downstairs.

"Excuse me," she called to the boy. He stopped, startling, as though he'd been caught at something.

"Tim, isn't it? Timothy?" Rose called.

"Yes Miss?" Timothy said quietly, moving up the stairs.

"How is your mother, Mr Latimer?" Joan asked in the conversational tone the adults reserved for students.

"She's well, Ma'am."

_Talk your ear off, this one,_ Rose raised her eyebrows. "Would you be able to take these books to Mr McGregor's office for me, please? Jeremy was supposed to come for them, but he must have forgotten."

"Of course, Miss," Tim replied quickly, holding out his arms as Rose offloaded the books.

As she brushed his hand, steadying the books, his eyes snapped to hers, suddenly. He looked very frightened.

"Thank you," Rose breathed out, her arms recovering, as she stepped back. He sure was a jittery little fellow, wasn't he?

"You're a good boy," Joan smiled down at him. "Off you go."

Tim did a small double-take and then nodded to Joan. "Yes Ma'am," he hurried back down the stairs.

"Brilliant, job done," Rose clapped her hands, turning back to Joan. "Now, where are you headed? Fancy a trip to the pub?"

Joan's eyes fluttered as she laughed a little nervously. "No, I think not."

"Oh, come on," Rose pleaded. "Women's room is always so dull," she rolled her eyes. "It would be so nice to have some friendly company for once, all the wives look at me as though I'm some sort of heathen for being unmarried an' working or something," she laughed.

This must have struck a chord in Joan, because she pursed her lips in a smile, her eyes thoughtful. "Well, why not?" she shrugged. "I will have to catch you up, I'm afraid," Joan put her hand on Rose's arm as she started to walk down the stairs herself. "I have a few things to finish."

"I'll save you a seat," Rose promised, moving back up the stairs towards the library. She needed to get her coat before she left.

* * *

The roads were dark, the air was cold. Rose hurried to the village pub, her arms crossed over her chest in a futile effort to stay as warm as possible. 

A flash of green light angled into the darkness with a sudden hum.

Rose squealed, jumping into the trees, stumbling and clutching to a tree trunk for support, her heart thumping in her chest.

She steadied her hat and watched, unsure exactly what she was seeing, but not liking it. A green beam, scanning the ground. An eerie hovering sound. Rose looked up, trying to see what the beam was being issued from, but couldn't make anything out past the brightness. Unconsciously, she held her breath, in case they were searching for her, but surely if they were they would have heard her heart pounding so loudly and come after her by now.

The green beam and buzzing sound stopped as suddenly as it had started. Everything was still, and dark again, darker than before, since Rose's eyes needed to readjust. She moved out to the path again, not worrying about where she was putting her feet, her eyes turned skyward. _Was it them?_

A streak of green flew across the sky like a large meteorite.

She waited, watching, little puffs of smoke appearing then disappearing as she caught her breath.

In the distance, another green beam. Or perhaps the same one that had landed on top of her, just now. She couldn't hear the humming noise this time, and watched the silent green beam, roving over the fields in horror. What were they looking for? Was it…?

And _snap_, it was out again, like a light switch being flicked off.

Rose stayed on the path, watching the skies desperately. Had they left? Was it them, the Family, somehow picking up on the Doctor's trail? How? They had been so careful! What was she supposed to do? Were they coming back?

"Miss Tyler, what are you --?"

Rose screamed and turned to the voice, completely snapped out of her frightened thoughts.

The Doctor was a few steps away. He jumped visibly at Rose's reaction, then hurried forward. "Are you all right? What has happened?" quickly and with concern.

Rose closed the gap between them and flung her arms around his neck, closing her eyes; he was _exactly_ who she needed to see at that moment.

She remembered herself, suddenly like a slap to the face, when his back went rigid and his hands fell to her arms, rather than hugging her back. She pulled away slowly.

Her eyes prickled a little. "I'm…" she searched for words. Oh, _god_, she missed his hugs.

"Dear girl, what has happened? You look as though you've seen a ghost," Smith recovered, looking slightly flushed. "I…I should escort you back to the school," he announced.

Rose looked helplessly to the sky for a moment, then back to the Doctor. "I'm supposed to be meeting the Matron at the pub—"

"She was still at school when I left but a moment ago, we might just pass her on the way. You're in no state to be out at the moment," Smith nodded with command, then motioned Rose forward with a hand movement.

They turned and started strolling back toward the school along the path. Rose hugged her hands around her arms. Her wool gloves itched a little and she pulled them off in anger, stuffing them into her coat pocket.

"Now, tell me, what has you so frightened?" Smith persisted in very Doctor-ish concern.

Rose tilted her head, wondering how to phrase it. "I… was jus' startled," she said weakly. "That's the second time you've snuck up on me today, Mr Smith, you're making quite a habit of it," she started to calm down.

Mr Smith stuttered a little and Rose realised she'd embarrassed him again.

"Bu' I'm all right now," Rose ducked, flicking him a hopeful glance, again searching for a change of subject. "Why don't you tell me more about these dreams you're having about me while we walk?"

"Oh, I, I'd hardly expect them to, to be of any interest, I mean, they are only _dreams_—"

_Damn_, Rose thought, listening. He looked and sounded even _more_ embarrassed.

"Please?" Rose tried, an innocent smile in place.

Smith put his hands in his coat pockets, and looked down at her, a mixture of shyness and longing, undoubtedly his mind wanting to tell someone his wild stories that felt so real, Rose thought. He smiled, a little nervously, then turned back to the path.

"As you wish," he started quietly. He looked to the sky, his eyes and mouth playing a sort of nervous pride. "Well, where to start? I…in these dreams, I am supposed to have two hearts," he sounded wondrous, as though agog his mind could come up with something that sounded so preposterous.

Rose tried not to smirk and nodded for him to continue, "And you said I'm there, as your companion?"

"Yes, most recently," he assented quickly. "In the future. In the year of our lord two-thousand and seven. Extraordinary," he muttered.

"Fantastic, even," Rose raised her eyebrows, grinning into the darkness at her own private joke. "Tell me more?" she asked hopefully.

Smith shook his head, as though amazed someone was interested in his silly tales, but acquiesced, telling her a story that she was quite familiar with; modern Cardiff, a creature that hid itself inside a human skin, who was actually an alien, trying to get home. He was retelling the story of Margaret Blaine. Or, rather, the Slitheen that had killed her and used her body. Jack, and Mickey, were mentioned a couple of times.

Hearing him retell the story, with a 1900's limitation of imagination, was fascinating. The connections he made, the reasoning he tried to glean from things that happened on their futuristic travels – it was somehow humbling. She wanted to correct him, once or twice, when he interpreted things horribly wrong, but she held her tongue, revelling in his wonderment, as though living the reality for the first time. At the time, it had felt like the world had depended on them, and it had been about humankind. The story, as he told it, was all about _him_, his analysis, which Rose hardly ever got to see. They didn't dwell on the places they had visited, hardly ever; their entire lives had been about moving on to the next great adventure.

Rose began to wonder if it was safe, to let him talk about it. But she was so starved for attention from him, she realised, that she was starting to push the limits. She missed him, _desperately_ missed him, and his friendship, not this awkward, proper Mr Smith friendship where he was afraid to touch her but her _Doctor's_ friendship.

And _if_ that green beam _had_ been the Family, they'd done their scan, and left, hadn't they? Finding no trace of Time Lord DNA, they'd scampered. They were safe.

They had only a month left, until Rose could give him the watch and they could get back to their real lives. There _couldn't_ be any harm in it.

"You know, I have, um," he started, stuttering a little. "I have written down some of these dreams, in the form of fiction, if you are interested."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Of course I'd be interested!" she rushed breathily.

"Well, then," the Doctor seemed proud and abashed at the same time, again. "I shall have to show you my Journal of Impossible Things."

* * *

"It's wonderful," Rose turned a couple of pages in awe. "I didn't know you could draw," she stared down at an ink drawing of what was undeniably the sonic screwdriver. 

"Hmm, become quite a hobby," the Doctor muttered next to her, looking over her shoulder at the drawings himself, pride in his voice.

She turned the page, recognising the clockwork men that had been after Reinette, and drawings of gas masks, from their time in the 1950's; when they'd first encountered Jack Harkness. And Cybermen. Rose turned that page quickly, her hand tracing over the outline of a familiar box shape on the next page.

"Ah," Smith's voice rose. "That's the box, the blue box, it's always there."

Rose smiled back at him over her shoulder. She wanted to tell him how much she missed it, the hum and rasp of the TARDIS. She'd found it difficult to sleep, the first few days, without it's reassuring background noise that she'd grown so used to, she hadn't even been aware of it.

He smiled fondly down at the drawing, then flicked Rose a glance, explaining, "like, um…a magic carpet, isn't it? This, funny little box that transports me to far away places."

Rose nodded, turning back to the book, and turning to the next page.

A slight drawing of her own face met her in the middle of this page, scribbled handwriting surrounding it. Her hair covered one eye, but it was still, undeniably her.

"Oh, and there you are," Smith's voice lowered. "I, I thought, since I was documenting the stories, I just simply must include you…"

"No, it's great," Rose reassured him quickly, reading the fragmented writing on the page. _"…dressed in the most unusual clothing. She will not leave me, yet she keeps somehow stepping away at the same time…"_

Rose turned the page hurriedly, suddenly feeling as though she was reading his personal diary. This was an invasion of his subconscious thoughts. The next page contained faces, only one of which she recognised, her eyes roving over the saturnine expression with an inward gasp; her first Doctor. Ol' big-ears himself. The other faces, and there were many, must have been him…his other regenerations. Oh, wow, the _hair _on some of them…

"Sometimes I think how magical life would be if stories like this were true," the Doctor sighed.

Rose looked over her shoulder again, closing the book sadly and handing it back to him. "If only."

"Just a dream," he spoke quietly, shrugging, his eyes conveying that longing again, one he was having trouble conceiving, in his human brain.

Rose wanted to hug him again, to reassure him that he'd soon be himself again. But she couldn't do it; Mr Smith just wouldn't understand. She let her gaze drop, and as she did, he caught her elbow with some urgency.

"Rose," he choked quickly, then cleared his throat as she turned to face him. He looked paler, like he was having a little trouble breathing.

"Are you all right?" anxiety winding its way into her voice.

"Yes," he breathed hurriedly, then smiled, "Yes, I'm sorry," he stammered, removing his hand.

Rose waited for him to continue, watching as he composed himself.

"Might I," he started, swallowing. The rest came out in a bit of a rush, "invite you to the village dance tomorrow evening. As my guest?"

Rose stopped her laughter just in time; how mortified would he be if she laughed in his face? But, _that_ was what he'd been having problems with? It was just _absurd_, her Doctor, nervous around her.

_But he's not your Doctor,_ an inner voice reminded her.

Rose pushed it aside and smiled warmly back at him, excitement in her eyes, leaning against his desk. "Jus' try an' stop me!"

She wanted to slap herself as soon as she'd said it. It was, again, too modern, too familiar. Damn it, where was her head, today? She'd tried so hard to stay in role these two months, and she was slipping _now_?

John Smith looked confused at this, and laughed. "Oh, Rose," he stood in front of her, his hand rising to her left cheek, cupping it tenderly. "You are such an enigma," he marvelled.

Rose's brows crossed, seeing the Doctor's dangerous sparkle in Mr Smith's eyes for just an instant, but before she could respond, he continued, his voice low, soft, almost – _enthralled_?

"So like the Rose in my dreams."

Rose felt a shiver down her spine as he tilted his head forward, just slightly, watching her for response.

She stayed perfectly still, suddenly very afraid. _Oh god, I got him all carried away, didn't I? I should've been more careful--_

Before the thought could settle in her mind, Smith must have come to some conclusion in his own, for he leaned himself further forward, meeting her in a chaste, sweet kiss, lips pressed together softly.

A breath caught in her throat as her eyes widened in realisation; oh yes, she wanted this, but it was all wrong. He was kissing an image from his dreams; the real Rose. She was kissing an image of the Doctor, but he wasn't himself, either.

Again, the thoughts fluttered from her mind as he deepened the kiss, his mouth parting just slightly, as a breath escaped him, and he returned to her for more. Her eyes closed involuntarily, the sensation surrounding her like a haze. The hand on her cheek moved to the back of her neck, gently, but somehow intensely, pulling her forward to him to doubly deepen their kiss. The desperate longing for what had been their inseparable friendship months ago overtook the urgent reasoning and warning signals firing in the back of Rose's mind.

She must have lost the use of her legs at some stage, because she lost her balance, her hands catching at his forearm with one, his coat with the other, to keep from toppling over the back of the desk. It was the lapse she'd needed. She tightened her grip, holding herself steady.

Mr Smith startled at the sudden movement, and pulled away. "Are you all right?" quietly, almost mumbled, as he caught his breath. His pupils were dilated and his eyes glowed with a passion Rose hadn't felt since…well, since a very long time.

He moved forward again when she didn't answer. Rose restrained him, her hands gripping his coat to stop him. She searched his eyes, for a sign of the Doctor; that it was really him, in there, making this advance. The light in his eyes was human.

It wasn't him.

She looked away from him, exhaling sharply, and Mr Smith stepped back from her again, further, Rose's grip slipping. They stood apart.

Smith's eyes conveyed confusion. He searched for words, before uttering a thick "I thought…" and trailing off again.

Rose moved herself away from the desk shakily; the fob watch in her pocket was hot, burning a hole into her ribcage; as though it had been awoken by them.

John Smith looked…pale. Rose met his gaze, her focus shaking dangerously. She couldn't be here. This was too much; he was defenceless, like this; his eyes spoke of an innocent yearning, a vulnerability. She missed him, but that was no excuse. Hadn't she been practising decorum for the past two months? How could she take advantage of his familiarity like this?

_Just…be his friend,_ she told herself. Despite whatever inner conflict she felt here, she had a duty to perform. Protect the Doctor. Defeat the Family. Keep focussed on the task.

Forcing any mortification she felt to the back of her mind, Rose ducked forward, smiling, and planted a kiss on Smith's cheek, quickly enough so he couldn't act on it in what she hoped he'd see as a sign of friendship. He inhaled as she did it; his hands moving slightly, reaching for her, but she was away in a moment, retaining their distance.

"I will see you tomorrow, Mr Smith, for the dance," Rose nodded awkwardly to him, before leaving his office and closing the door. The white lettering, 'J Smith', glared down at her. She leaned against it, sighing, closing her eyes.

Smith was confused, clinging onto the only history he recognised, and tempted by his fantastical dreams, she reasoned. So very human; so unlike the Doctor. She couldn't let herself fall into the delusion that this man and her Doctor were the same man.

Only a month to go, she reminded herself, and the Family would be dead; the threat, done with.

She headed back to her room, aside the library. She really should have gone to Joan's office, and told her to forget about the pub, but she'd been so taken by Smith's storytelling at the time she'd forgotten all about the Matron.

Oh well. The light was off, Rose noticed as she passed the Matron's office. Nobody was home.

* * *

Morning brought with it a renewed resolve to Rose Tyler; the show must go on. She tied her hair back securely, a childish part of her mind explaining that Miss Rose Tyler of the Powell Estate, Nottingham, would have undoubtedly have handled the previous night with Mr Smith differently. That her own personal craving for anything reminiscent of their travels had mislead poor Mr Smith. 

But would a 21-year old girl from this time have _really_ acted any differently? Wasn't it a girl's great aim in life to ultimately, despite any position or level of wealth, find a husband?

Rose rolled her eyes. This wasn't Emma, and she certainly wasn't Gwyneth Paltrow. She grabbed her outdoor clothes and shrugged on her coat as she hurried along the corridors of the school. With any luck, she would be back before anyone noticed she wasn't in the library.

There was a cough, and what sounded like a muffled sneeze, sounding from Matron's office as Rose walked past. She slowed, peering through the open door.

"Morning, Matron," Rose called cheerily, knocking lightly on the door frame.

Joan was sitting tall in her usual chair, her hands folded in her lap. She wasn't alone; that Jeremy Baines brat was sitting in the patient's chair. They both snapped their heads to the door when Rose knocked.

"Pardon me, I see you are busy," Rose moved to leave.

"That's quite all right," Joan replied. "Where are you going?"

There was a sound of…sniffing? A long, drawn out inhalation.

Rose tentatively turned back. Joan must have been annoyed at her, for the previous night, she sounded very cold. She inwardly cursed.

"I'm…just headed to the store, before work," Rose lied weakly, wondering why she was under interrogation in the back of her mind. "Do you need anything?" she asked, after a pause.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Matron answered quickly, smiling at Rose.

Rose nodded, a chill creeping up down her spine. Jeremy Baines' eyes were boring into her, and she wondered if he'd blinked the whole time she'd been in the room. Creepy little git.

"Good day to you, then," Rose exited, her heels timing an even 'clack-clack' noise as she stepped from the room, and continued down the hallway.

She forced the awkward moment from her mind. She'd be annoyed, too, if someone had convinced her to go out, then not showed themselves. She would think of some way to make it up to her, later. It was a shame, really, because she had been going to ask Joan some advice about how to behave at the dance that night.

This morning, she wasn't going anywhere near the general store, or anywhere else remotely connected to 1913. She was visiting the TARDIS.

She'd thought of it, late the night before. Perhaps, if she visited the old girl, she'd satisfy enough of the homesickness in her to ride out this final month without any more gratuitous slip ups. That, and she needed to find something to wear that night. Her clothing thus far had consisted of drab, simple skirts, blouses and waistcoats. Hardly the sort of authentic evening wear she needed for the dance.

The TARDIS was hidden in an abandoned shed, just aside the woods, the perception filter and other essential elements still humming away, rendering it safe, and unnoticed.

Rose closed the shed door and smiled as she turned to face the beautiful blue box at the back. She recovered her key from the chain around her neck. Unlocked the door, stepped inside, and doubled her smile.

"Hello," she called out.

The warm interior glow of the TARDIS hummed, and Rose closed her eyes, breathing in, holding onto the moment.

Her hand trailed along the coral either side of the walkway as she moved toward the inner console. Unwittingly, she remembered the last time she and the Doctor had been here, trying to escape the Family.

_Bleep, bleep, bleep!_

"_They're following us!"_

"_How can they do that?"_

"_Stolen technology. They've got a time agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go. Right across the universe. They're never gonna stop. Unless, well…I'll have to do it."_

"_Do wha'?"_

"_Rose, you trust me don't you?" _

"_Of course!"_

"'_Cause it all depends on you."_

Rose closed her eyes, wishing the memory away. She hadn't returned to the TARDIS for this.

The memories flowed, however, as though the TARDIS had something to do with it, and wanted her to remember.

"_Those creatures are hunters. They can sniff out anyone. And me being a Time Lord, well, I'm unique. They can track me down across the whole of time and space."_

"_Can't we hide from them?" _

"_Exactly, Rose. Their life spans are running out, so, we hide. Wait for them to die." _

"_Where's safe though? You're the only Time Lord, they'll jus' sniff you out again." _

"_That's why I've gotta do it. I have to stop being a Time Lord. I'm going to become human." _

And he was, wasn't he, Rose asked herself? So human, with a human mind, human motives, human needs.

Rose looked up sadly to the heart of the TARDIS, swirling peacefully in the inner console. It hummed, almost in reply, and Rose ran her hand lovingly over the console, biting her lower lip.

"I miss him too."

* * *

She tracked down a gown in the TARDIS wardrobe; a full length, rather columnar, long sleeved white dress with a lavender shift that tied at the front and fell in a rather pretty layer half way down the length of the skirt. It had been almost the first thing to fall into her hand as she'd pawed through the various costumes, and she'd taken it; she was used to the TARDIS' pick being the right one for each job. 

By the time she'd gotten back to school, there was a warm teapot on her desk and a stack of returns awaiting her. A few notes lay on a tray she'd christened her 'inbox', much to the confusion of the other staff, with lists of research materials and texts the some of the teachers required later on that day.

Rose sighed, hung her coat up and started on the returns.

* * *

Later that day, she'd been hurrying some books to the French teacher's office across the courtyard when she'd passed one of Mr Smith's classes. She winced, watching as children, across the field, learned to shoot guns. Smith stood tall, hands behind his back, overlooking their progress. The headmaster was next to him. 

The rattle of the gun grated at Rose; it felt so_ wrong!_

_Was it_, another voice in her mind fired quickly? _It's 1913. Most of these boys will be forced into the war, next year. Shouldn't they learn how to defend themselves?_

The point, of course, was that none of them were aware that there'd be a war starting in a year's time. Not even Mr Smith.

Rose stood there, watching their class, books held to her chest, wondering how Mr Smith could condone it. She knew he wasn't the Doctor, but could the two really be all that different?

The class broke for a break, and the headmaster left Smith's side. Smith turned to bid him farewell. Then he noticed Rose, standing there watching him, and a smile broke out on his face, dissolving the calculating, one-eyebrow raised teacher look he'd worn a moment earlier. He raised his hand to her, and Rose waved back, clutching onto the books in her arm to stop from running over and screaming _What do you think you're doing?_ at him.

He jogged over to meet her. "Ah, Miss Tyler!" he greeted, coming to a halt.

"Good morning Mr Smith," Rose replied quietly, nodding but unable to shake the discomfort in the pit of her stomach.

It must have shown; Mr Smith's smile fell.

Rose _hated_ this, all of a sudden. She hated not being able to speak her mind to him.

"I'm sorry," she forced a smile, flicking her fringe out of her eyes. "My mind was somewhere else for a moment."

"You're making quite a habit of that," Smith, a wariness in his eyes, but a small smile back in place, spoke softly.

Rose laughed out loud, and the ice began to melt.

"Come, I need to post a letter this afternoon, will you walk to town with me?" Smith encouraged.

Rose calmed herself, shaking her head, "Oh, I have books to deliver," she nodded across the school. "Mr Wythe will be havin' kittens if I don't—"

"Come now, I'll have one of the boys do it," he turned back to his class, who were occupied by a tent by something. "Latimer!" he called to the group.

"No, really, it's all right, it's my job," Rose insisted.

Rose noticed Tim Latimer get shakily to his feet and march to them.

"Nonsense," Smith replied to her.

Tim Latimer stopped in front of them. "Yes, Sir?"

"Ah, good," Smith's tone sharpened. "I need you to deliver these texts to Mr Wythe directly."

Rose noticed the boy looked as though he was going to jump out of his skin. "…are you all right?" she asked carefully.

"Yes, Miss, fine Miss," Tim held out his arms. Rose handed him the couple of books.

He was _not_ fine, that was easy to deduce. Rose smiled at him, ruffling his hair once her hands were free.

"You're quite a help to me you know, Tim, if I'm not careful you'll have my job soon," she tried to cheer him up.

"Thank you, Miss," Tim replied, still shaken. His eyes were flicking between her and Smith, almost…almost as though he recognised them. Rose's smile dropped and she gave Tim a sideways look.

"You're really not looking yourself old chap, anything bothering you?" Smith asked in an undertone.

"No, Sir," Tim appeared to snap out of his thoughts, standing tall again. "Thank you, Sir."

"Well, then," Smith dismissed him. "Good."

Tim Latimer gave Smith and Rose a nod and hurried away to his task.

"Shall we?" Smith motioned them forward.

Rose nodded, frowning, watching the receding form of Tim Latimer. The fob watch in her pocket felt hot against her, again.

* * *

Walking into town with Smith had been peaceful, and apart from the careful polite awkwardness of their manner, Rose almost felt as though it was the good old days, again. 

She could tell Smith was concerned, the entire time. Probably wondering if he'd overstepped the mark, the night before. She wondered if he wished he could take it back, then flung the thought from her mind. No. He didn't appear to regret anything. More to the point, he was clearly leaving any decisions to her, now he'd shown her his desires. She reminded herself of the promise she'd made; _be his friend_. And so, she was his friend, as they walked and talked, missing about a hundred more opportunities to tease him.

Rose wondered if the Doctor would remember any of this, once she gave him back the watch? What would he make of it? Would he laugh, slap her on the back and chide himself for being 'oh so human', marvelling at the brilliance of it? Probably.

The letter posted, they began the walk back to Farringham's. Their conversation wound around to the students, and the scene Rose had witnessed earlier; boys, being instructed on how best to kill.

"I'll admit," Smith held his hands behind his back as they strolled over a hill by the fields. "Mankind doesn't need war and bloodshed to prove itself. Everyday life can provide honour and valour. Great Britain is at peace, long may it reign."

Rose closed her eyes. "But…what if it doesn't? What if…there's another war?"

Smith looked down at her a moment, his face speculative. "If that were to be the case, then the discipline would be good for them," he shrugged.

Rose shook her head, unable to form an answer. There _would_ be another war, and most of those boys at the school _would_ die in it.

They walked in silence a moment, and then; "That scarecrow's all askew."

Rose turned to Smith in question, then followed his gaze. A scarecrow was in the field, half-fallen off its stake. Smith headed toward it, and Rose followed.

She stood back a little, her arms crossed, as he fiddled with the arm and head of the scarecrow, securing it. She bit her bottom lip as she watched him, expecting him to pull out the sonic screwdriver at any moment and buzz it back into place, making a crack about giving it a brain, and him being such a 'wonderful wizard'.

Oh, she missed him. The trip to the TARDIS that morning had just reaffirmed how _much_ she missed him.

Smith noticed her look as he stood back from the scarecrow, dusting his hands off. His brows crossed, ever so slightly as he smiled warily. "What?"

"Nothin'," Rose laughed, looking away to calm herself down.

Smith paused, in the corner of Rose's eye, then patted the scarecrow on the head. "Well…my, my work is done. Shall we continue?" he asked merrily.

Rose nodded, turning back and hurrying to the path, not trusting her ability to speak.

Smith jogged up aside her, grinning. "All sorts of skills today," he nodded back to the scarecrow.

Rose raised her eyebrows. "You're just _so_ clever, aren't you?" she teased.

Smith looked confused, just as Rose knew he would, and she laughed, holding out her hand. "C'mon! Let's get back to school, it's freezing out here."

When Smith didn't move, she grabbed his hand herself, and ran, ignoring her mind, screaming at her to stop being such an idiot and ruining everything.

Smith laughed in disbelief, and fell into a jog beside her.

"You extraordinary girl," he shook his head.

Rose smiled back up at him as they fell into a walk, and hands linked, hurried back to the school. She missed him. She needed his contact and no matter how much it confused Mr Smith, she knew the Doctor would understand. She wasn't going to abandon him.

* * *

Smith had picked Rose up from her room to escort her to the dance that evening, his eyes misting slightly when she'd done a spin for him. The dress had fitted well, and Rose had clipped the fob watch to the chain around her neck so it rested just between her breasts; she couldn't leave it lying around, so she'd had to hide it on the chain that held her TARDIS key. 

Rose hadn't given him time to knit his human thoughts together as she'd taken his arm, and they'd walked down the hallway, to the exit of the school. This was just another party that they were crashing, she told herself.

The village hall was small, with a warm atmosphere. There were red, white, blue flags, draped over the walls, the Union Flag in the middle of the largest wall. There were about fifty people there and more entering, all of whom Rose recognised on some level; in a small town, it was difficult to not know everyone at least by face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your partners for a waltz!"

An oboe echoed around the hall, playing a melody as a piano kept the three-four beat.

Smith held Rose's hand, and nodded toward the dance floor.

_Oh my god. I didn't think of that._

Rose tried to come up with some sort of credible reason for not being the world's best dancer. Smith led her to a clear spot on the floor, clasping her hand, and her waist. Rose hurriedly put her hand on his shoulder, trying to remember back; dancing to Glenn Miller in the old days had been easy.

"It's been a while, since I've danced properly," Rose told him weakly.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered, a burning confidence in his eyes.

The fob watch blazed against her as he spoke. With it, Rose felt a pang of guilt.

* * *

Rose sat at one of the tables in the hall, watching the dancers, while Smith was away getting them drinks. Happy couples spun each other around the room, laughing, smiling, enjoying themselves. 

She was enjoying herself, too. On the surface, at least. She couldn't shake a guilty little light at the back of her mind, insisting that she was toying with John Smith. That the Doctor would be mad at her, when he came back.

The fob watch blazed still, but not angrily; reassuringly. It was a welcome warmth on her chest, like the Doctor had taken her hand and squeezed it.

Smith suddenly took his seat the other side of Rose, and placed a couple of drinks down on the table.

She jumped a little, snapped out of her thoughts again. He was smiling, so simply, and she smiled back. He seemed so happy. It was a different sort of happy; not the mad, energetic, wild and fiery happy she was used to. A peaceful, simple happiness.

"Nice night," Rose nodded to the dance floor. Not that it was her idea of a big night out, but she supposed that for 1913, it was…appropriate.

Smith put his hand over hers, his eyes shining. "It's fantastic."

Rose's eyes snapped back to him. _What_?

He withdrew his hand immediately, at her look, wounded. He paused, before uncomfortably whispering. "Rose, I don't understand. One moment, you warm to my touch and the next, you shy from me, as though I've _hit_ you--"

Rose shook her head quickly, reaching for his hand, gripping it, wanting to reassure him she was there. She probably squeezed it a little tighter than she should have, and he looked confused, again.

She _could_ do this, she told herself. How could she explain? "I'm sorry. I jus'…" she started, searching her mind, then shook her head again, hopelessly. "Do you ever get the feelin', that there's something else?" she pleaded.

John Smith stayed quiet, the confusion gone. He was very still, waiting for an explanation or confirmation, or something. Rose sighed.

"Something else, in here," she reached across, putting a hand over where his second heart would have usually beat.

As she touched him, she felt the fob watch flare up against her skin again. It warmed her whole body, and with a gasp from Mr Smith, she realised it had done the same to him. She pulled back, quickly, but the fob watch stayed warm, pulsing, beating against her chest.

Mr Smith was agape. "What _was_ that?"

Rose let her other hand fall out of his, placing it on the table, a depression overcoming her. "It's us," she shrugged, her eyes turning back to the dancing couples. "The way we're meant to be," almost a whisper.

She felt terrible, not being able to explain anything properly, and inwardly yelled at herself for just making things worse. He must have been starting to think she was mad, unstable.

Only a month to go.

Rose's eyes were drawn to the entrance of the hall, where she noticed a familiar face; Joan! Joan Redfern, looking into the hall. She'd come after all! Where was her date?

_BLAM!_

Everyone in the hall cried out in surprise as the music stopped. Smith startled across the table, covering Rose's hand quickly with his own.

Rose watched in horror as Matron walked into the room, an icy stare in place. _What_ was going _on_?

"There will be silence!" she bellowed, her voice tearing through the murmured cries of the crowd. Another two people entered the room; Baines, and the school groundskeeper Mr Clarke, a rotund man she barely knew.

"What the devil is this?" Smith muttered beside her as more forms entered the room.

_Scarecrows_. An army of them, lumbering into the hall and blocking the entrance.

"Nurse Redfern, what is going on?" one of the organisers of the dance piped up from the front of the room.

Matron turned, without a word, and fired a gun at him. A green laser hit him square in the chest, and before he could utter a scream, he was disintegrated.

Rose covered her mouth – oh, _god_, she recognised that gun. It was _them._ How…what?

There were panicked gasps and screams from the crowd, and Smith stood and tried to hurry them both back, away from the madness, to the rest of the crowd gathering at the rear of the room.

Rose couldn't take her eyes off Joan. The Family, they had killed her. When? It must have been recent. Joan glared around the room with malice, her eyes coming to rest on Rose. A wicked smile began to form, one that didn't suit her plain, but beautiful face at all.

_This _made Rose notice Smith's insistence that they move a little further away; she stumbled backwards, coming up against another table.

"We asked for _silence_!" Jeremy Baines, or at least, the alien that had taken over Jeremy, screamed. The crowd snapped into a frightened hush.

"Now then," he started. "We have a few questions for Miss Tyler."

"No," a little girl in pink coat, holding a red balloon, joined the main three in the middle of the room. For a moment, Rose was going to call out for the child to hurry out of the way before they blasted her, but she stopped herself; the words caught in her throat. The little girl's eyes were alien and cold. She was one of them.

"Better than that," the child quipped. "The teacher. Is the Doctor. I heard them talking. She," the little girl glared at Rose, "all but told him he was supposed to have two hearts."

A cold wave washed over Rose as Smith's hand on her shoulder tightened. She knew there'd be more questions in his eyes, if she looked at him, so she kept her eyes forward, watching the terrible foursome. She had alerted them to their presence. It _was_ her fault. Now she had to get them out of it. Protect the Doctor.

"You took human form," Baines jibed to Smith, a touch of sarcastic sentimentality in his drone.

"Of course I'm human, I was born human, as were you Baines," Smith stepped beside Rose his hand holding her back, protective. "And Nurse Redfern. And you Mr Clarke," he nodded to them. "What is going on, this is madness?"

"Ooh, and a human brain, too - simple, thick and dull," Baines continued.

"He's no good like this," Joan grated.

"No," Mr Clarke agreed. "We need…a Time Lord."

Smith's hand was beginning to shake on Rose's arm, and it fell away. She opened her mouth to try explain, the watch suddenly cold against her. It was time, she had to open it.

"Easily done," Baines stepped forward, pointing the metallic green gun at Smith. "Change back."

Rose's heart leaped into her mouth. _No_. She had to open the watch, without their seeing her. She took a slow step to her right, while they were focussed on Smith, part of her screaming at her for even thinking about leaving his side.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Smith muttered quickly at Baines.

"Change back!" Baines demanded.

"I, I literally do not know—" Smith was holding his hands out, exasperated.

Something cold and metallic pressed itself into Rose's temple, as an arm grabbed her around the neck.

"Let me go!" she screamed, kicking and struggling for a moment. She'd been edging to the right of the room slowly, but still focussed on Baines and Smith, unable to look away.

Everyone in the hall turned to her. Smith looked torn.

"She's your companion, isn't she?" it was Joan who had hold of her, taunting the Doctor over Rose's shoulder, the gun moving from her temple and pressing securely under her chin. Rose shuddered, then tried to remain still. "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?"

"I don't know what you mean!" Smith cried desperately.

"He can't change," Rose grated to Joan. Joan jostled her to stay quiet.

"Have you enjoyed it, Doctor?" Baines asked in a sneering voice. "Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer, wiser?" he fired.

Smith was looking in distress to Rose. Rose wanted to scream at them, he doesn't know! The watch, he needed the watch!

But what good would the watch do now? She was too late! Open the watch, the Doctor would return, and they'd still have him - either way, she had failed to protect him.

_No_. She couldn't give up. There had to be some other way.

"Mother of mine," Baines nodded across the room to Joan, a grin worming its way onto his face. "Kill her."

* * *

_To be continued, in The Family of Blood…_

* * *


	11. Episode 9: The Family of Blood

THE FAMILY OF BLOOD

_Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews of last chapter. I have to apologise for the delay in this second part. I was somewhat distracted by the launch of the Deathly Hallows…As well as that, this chapter could have gone so many ways, I wanted to sit on all the ideas for a little while, picking one that would leave Rose and the Doctor in a good place, and hopefully, a realistic one. I hope you enjoy it, because I certainly have. _

* * *

"_Have you enjoyed it, Doctor?" Baines asked in a sneering voice. "Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer, wiser?" he fired. _

_Smith was looking in distress to Rose. Rose wanted to scream at them, he doesn't know! The watch, he needed the watch!_

_But what good would the watch do now? She was too late! Open the watch, the Doctor would return, and they'd still have him - either way, she had failed to protect him. _

_No. She couldn't give up. There had to be some other way. _

"_Mother of mine," Baines nodded across the room to Joan, a grin worming its way onto his face. "Kill her."_

* * *

_Think, Rose, think, _she clenched her eyes shut. It was difficult concentrating on the present, with a gun sticking into her chin and the command to kill hanging in the air. Despite it not being her first time at gunpoint, Rose still had to overcome the fear, punctuated by the knowledge that the Doctor could not get her out of it this time.

"Shall I pull the trigger, Mr Smith?" Joan hissed, her arm tightening around Rose's shoulders, the gun steadying as if to reaffirm they were serious.

There was a subtle warmth, and a rapid shudder, almost a rumbling, against Rose's collarbone. Rose's eyes snapped open, fearing that the Joan-alien had felt it, too, but the woman holding her appeared to be focused elsewhere.

Rose looked up to John Smith. His brows were about as crossed as she'd ever seen them, eyes wide, shining with confused, frustrated tears. He was shaking his head, muttering softly 'no'.

"Perhaps if the human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge?" Baines sneered across the room.

The rumbling against her chest intensified at this. Rose felt her hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck stand on end; the warmth was charged, almost electric…like a pocket-sized oncoming storm.

Wondering where such an absurd thought had come from, Rose burst out laughing; the sound pealed and echoed around the village hall.

Evidently, no one had been expecting that sort of reaction from anyone in the room, particularly from the girl with the gun muzzle nestled against her jaw. _Everyone_ jumped, almost in unison, at Rose's laughter.

The easing of the tension, and the chemicals the laughter had fired in Rose, gave her confidence; the lapse in concentration it caused in everyone else gave her time. She acted on it.

She grabbed Joan's wrist holding the gun at her neck, and twisted it, kicking back with her heel into the woman's knee. The gun fired as Joan's finger slipped; a blast of green flew past Rose's eyes and hit the roof. As Joan fell forward, pulled off balance, landing on her hands and knees in front of her, Rose looked, somewhat bewildered, at the gun now in her hand.

She noticed Smith, paces away, startle again at the blast, leaping forward.

"I'm all right, I'm all right," Rose held her hand up to him, to stop him, her eyes flickering between Smith and the Family to make sure none of them were making a move.

Smith faltered, but stayed where he was.

She had held up the hand that was holding the gun, quite by accident, to stop him. Smith wasn't looking at her, now; he was watching her hand, and the green and metal blaster in it. Rose also looked at her hand, dumbly, for a moment, before a mad thought sparked in her mind, one that might get them out of this mess alive, if she was quick.

Rose steadied her hand, and aimed the gun straight at Smith.

She looked away, almost instantly, back to the Family. Smith's reaction near made Rose burst into tears; confusion, topped by what looked like, in that quick glance, betrayal. Joan was still on the floor, glaring up at her, unblinking. Baines was breathing heavily, eyes flicking between Smith and Rose, as though suddenly, very nervous, but trying not to show it.

The watch burned against her now. _Protect the Doctor. _Her heart hammered. What was she _doing_?

"I…uh," she stammered, as her voice, and hand, shook. The little brat in the pink coat scowled at her, as Baines' evil leer steadied itself on Rose.

"Would you really pull the trigger?" Baines realigned his gun, pointing it at Rose, now. "Shoot down your precious Doctor? Too scared!" he barked.

An angry ball of fire caught alight in Rose's belly and she shook her head. Tears caught in her eyes, and on the edges of her thoughts, she struggled to hold them back.

"Yeah, bu' he's not the Doctor," Rose explained simply, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head, as though it should have been obvious to Baines and the Family. "He's human. He's John Smith, jus' like he says. You'll get _nothin'_ from him."

Rose steeled herself, inwardly begging for strength as the Family waited, calculating, Baines' trigger finger twitching. Rose tried not to notice it, and forced her gaze to lock onto Baines' alien eyes.

"Only _I_ hold the power of a Time Lord," she raised her eyebrows, wishing the tears on the brink would go away and stop clouding her vision. She barked a laugh at the stupidity of her plan; this was _never _going to work. Smith jumped again, in her peripheral. She made sure she didn't look at him; one more look from him would have surely unhinged her.

Mr Clarke was glaring, calculating. "The girl is bluffing. She is no Time Lord—"

"Do it, then!" Rose cried out, cutting him off and wanting to kick herself. A part of her was screaming, begging her to stop, but something intense and primeval kept her fighting. Not all was lost. The fob watch burned brightly, encouragingly. She held onto its warmth, like a guiding light.

"Kill me!" she dared Baines. The alien-boy faltered. "Pull the trigger an' I'll pull mine! Do it!" she called, nodding at Baines. "Smith and I die together, now!" a couple of tears fell over, trailing a path down her cheeks. She ignored them. "Then what'll happen to you?" she finished, pulling her trump. The Family were desperate to live. They would not kill either of them, she knew this for a fact, if they thought it would destroy their one chance at obtaining immortality.

Rose could hear a ticking sound, as she waited, her hand steady, aimed at Smith. It reminded her of a time bomb, but was realistically more likely the white clock hanging above the stage in the hall, oblivious to the intensity of the moment as it calmly counted the seconds.

She stared Baines down, forcing herself not to blink, or smile, or show any emotion. The tears dried on her cheeks.

Baines finally moved; he cocked his head, very slightly. He sniffed, closing his eyes; a long, drawn out, rasping sound. Then he lowered his gun.

Rose breathed again, then nodded to Baines' gun hand with a sideways glance at Smith. "You, Smith, take it from 'im," she said quickly.

Smith blinked, mouth opening in a stutter. "I—"

"Jus'…do it," she commanded evenly, and sent him a hurried, pleading look.

With a confused pause, Smith obliged, moving forward and taking the gun from Baines' out-stretched palm. Baines' lips were tightly pressed together, his eyes were wide. Rose thought his head might explode, or implode; he didn't appear to have taken a breath for a while.

"Righ'," Rose turned her gun, to face Baines, now. "Everyone outta here!" she raised her voice.

The silent crowd didn't need to be told twice. It was like watching an hourglass; the sand grains all fighting for the same exit point at once.

Rose breathed again, more steadily, flicking Smith another glance. He was holding the gun, aiming it at Baines, watching Rose for orders.

The fear in his eyes was muted, she noticed in that second, by something else. Not pride; no, that was what the Doctor would have shown, maybe explaining why the fob watch against her chest was burning so brightly now. Perhaps a confused sort of wonder? Well, who could blame him – the little girl he'd known all his life (apparently) was talking like the futuristic woman from his dreams. And she'd just _won_. Rose wasn't half surprised at herself either.

"You too, Mr Smith, out you go," Rose pulled her eyes away from him, and focussed on the Family once more.

"But, but what about you--?"

"_Listen_ to me!" she cut him off.

She could feel his pleading eyes on her, trying to draw her to look at him. She held Baines' gaze. The skin at the corner of the alien-boy's eyes twitched. She sighed, shakily, when Smith left the room.

He had left her. She reminded herself, again, that Smith was _not_ the Doctor. The fob watch shuddered briefly, still burning brightly. No. _He_ hadn't left her.

"Get up," Rose ordered Joan, who'd not moved from the floor, glaring balefully up at Rose the whole time.

Joan got to her feet slowly, a mutinous look on her face, and joined her family.

Rose began to back away, toward the exit, gun still raised.

"Where's Nurse Redfern, then?" she nodded to the alien that had taken her form.

"She's consumed," Joan raised her eyebrows, smirking; again, this was an expression that didn't suit her face.

Rose nodded, swallowing, trying to keep her voice steady and not think of Joan, the poor, kind widow who'd been her advisor and secret guide. She'd helped Rose, more than Joan could ever have known. Now she would never know how much Rose had valued her.

"She's dead?" Rose asked simply.

"Of course," the Joan-alien suddenly seemed to be enjoying herself, taking small steps toward Rose. The rest of the Family moved forward with her.

Rose continued her own backward movement, nearer the exit all the time. What was it with some of these aliens, taking bodies and using the empty shells? Didn't they think about the person with the real life that they were stealing?

A coarse, floppy sort of arm flung itself around Rose's shoulders, and she screamed, grabbed the arm and struggled toward the exit in a great rush of adrenalin.

"Get the gun!" Baines ordered.

Everything and everyone moved at once. Rose gripped the gun in one hand as the thing tried to struggle it off her, the arm of the scarecrow in the other, and ran for it, bumping into the side of the door and not turning to investigate the 'riiiiiip!' sound that allowed her to move more freely again.

She dashed down the path outside, as the now one-armed scarecrow, and the Family, hurried after her.

Smith was standing at the end of the path, looking like a lost lamb.

Rose didn't slow down, noticing him standing there, though her heart sang at the sight of him. _He didn't leave! _

She threw down the floppy scarecrow arm at the entry, and grabbed his hand instead as she rounded the corner of the path, onto the main road. His hand was warm, and enclosed her palm and fingers like a favourite glove.

"Run!" she cried.

Smith didn't protest, or start firing the questions he looked like he so wanted to ask.

They just ran.

* * *

The school had been the closest place to run to. They'd bolted the doors, and Rose had leant against the inside, out of breath, as Smith had continued forward, purpose clouding his usually unfailing manners.

He'd woken the school, called them to arms, insisting that they were under attack.

Rose had tried to stop him, but the students woke quickly and acted even quicker; like seasoned army troops, rather than schoolboys. The headmaster had woken, angry, and tried to diffuse the situation, but Smith had convinced him there was an enemy at the gates.

Rose hadn't been able to get a word in. She tried to pull Smith aside, but he had shrugged her off and stepped past hurriedly, issuing orders and commands to the boys to obstruct entrances and load weapons.

The headmaster had seemed even less interested in Rose's opinion on the situation, pushing her away and insisting that she barricade herself in the library until the matter was dealt with by the men.

Rose bristled, charging in the direction she'd last seen Smith run off in. Why wasn't anyone _listening_ to her, she thought in frustration?

It was time to open the watch, she deduced. Nobody would ignore the Doctor.

She just had to get Smith alone for two seconds and make him flip the lid. Then the Doctor would be back. He'd diffuse the situation.

The watch pulsed lightly, and a part of Rose's mind, that sounded very like the Doctor, warned her, _it's not safe yet._

Like hell it wasn't. They needed the Doctor, _now_, before more people got killed.

* * *

Smith had disappeared. Rose had begun to wonder how one man could hide himself so well inside a school, hurrying down a hallway.

_Beware! _

The Doctor's voice whispered into her mind, the fob watch flaring. It had felt like the whisper had come from just over her shoulder…she could almost feel a trace of his breath on her neck as the hairs there stood on end.

Rose gasped, abruptly stopping. She pulled the chain out, bringing the TARDIS key and the fob watch with it.

She ran her fingers over the watch, in confusion as it pulsed against her touch. Had it just…spoken to her? It had been reacting to her all night, but had it actually _spoken_--?

"Who are you?" a child's voice called.

Rose, forcing her gaze to lift from the watch, turned slowly. "Wha'?"

The little girl in the pink coat was standing at the end of the hallway, still holding that red balloon, looking like something out of a bad horror film.

"Who are you?" she repeated, in the same, calculating, yet accusatory tone. "Who are you, _really_?"

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Like I'm gonna tell _you_ anythin'," she scoffed.

"What are you hiding?" the girl ordered quickly, volume increasing. "What have you got there?"

Rose followed the little girl's gaze, to her hands – the watch. How had she realised the watch had something to do with it?

"Show me, little girl," the child at the end of the hallway simpered.

"Who you callin' little girl?" Rose gripped the fob watch in her hand, turning fully to face her. She knew this little girl.

Cartwright. That was her name, before the alien had stolen her life. Lucy Cartwright.

"You're the child now. You picked a little girl, called Lucy Cartwright, to host your mind, you great alien git," Rose glared. "A child, who was completely _defenceless_," Rose grated. "You _coward_!"

"Show me what you have in your hand!" the alien-Lucy screamed.

"Righ'," Rose nodded, squaring herself, holding the watch forward. "You wanna see it? Here!"

Rose opened the fob watch, and a golden light rushed forward, spilling toward the little girl at the end of the hallway. A ringing, almost shrieking sound filled the passage. Rose felt fragments of the light fly back toward her, encircling her, warming her and giving her strength. Caught fragments of the Doctor, rushing into her mind, flickering images of the enemies he'd crushed in the past. Rose shuddered, but forced herself to keep watching Lucy, and ignore the images, the coldness in his eyes, in those images.

Lucy, at the end of the hallway, looked stunned; her eyes widened.

She turned and ran.

Rose closed the pocket watch regretfully, then slowly re-hung the chain around her neck, wondering if she should have opened it at all. The Family would know where the Time Lord was kept, now. They'd not think twice again about killing her, once Lucy got back to them and relayed the truth.

It was _really_ time to end this, Rose pushed herself, continuing down the school hallway.

* * *

She found him, finally, between rooms, and by the look of him, between thoughts.

"Rose, it's not safe here," he said in a rush, catching her shoulders in both hands. "Aldridge!" he called to a boy running past them with a rifle. "To the gates, they know the drill!" he pointed beyond.

"Yes, sir!" the boy continued past.

Rose shook her head at Smith, as he looked back down to her. His eyes seemed to soften.

"Please, _go_, Rose, I don't know what I'd do if you were—"

"When are you gonna get it through your thick skull?" Rose cut him off quietly, shaking her head, and tapping his forehead.

He blinked in a somewhat confused way.

"I'm _never_ gonna leave you," she insisted, promising, smiling.

Smith looked incredulous a moment, and Rose knew he was remembering his dreams. She'd read about them, briefly, in his Journal of Impossible Things. The Rose in his dreams, who refused to leave him. And now, the scene at the dance, where she'd so plainly revealed that she knew what Baines had been talking about and seeking, pointing a gun at him with a steady hand.

The confusion in his features must have meant a part of him still wanted to believe in the contrived Rose Tyler, and not the girl from the future who travelled to amazing places with the dream version of himself who somehow had two hearts. Talk about stubbornly human.

Before he could respond, or insist she leave again, Rose pulled the chain up from around her neck and offered the pocket watch to him on her palm.

"Open it," she whispered, smiling encouragingly.

Smith's eyes were cautious as he beheld the watch, faltering a little as recognition flared. Oh yes, she knew he'd recognise this watch now, after tonight. He'd told her that he'd dreamed of it, and his dreams were becoming real all at once.

"Why?" he spoke finally, his voice thick with emotion.

"Because it's the real you!" she cried quickly, exasperated.

The light in John Smith's eyes fogged and twisted, as he shifted his gaze from the watch, to Rose's face.

"I cannot pretend I understand what's happening here," he shook his head, his grip on her shoulders tightening. "But how can you think for a moment that _I'm_ not real?" he looked wounded.

_What_? Rose looked to the ceiling in frustration, so she didn't have to look into those eyes, so full of devoted anguish. "Will you jus' _trust_ me, it'll all make sense if—"

She was cut off, when his lips met hers. He kissed her, pressing against her urgently, his hands gripping her shoulders only just a little _too_ tightly, as though trying to reaffirm in both their minds that he was an opaque, solid human being.

Rose was caught in his intensity a moment. The fob watch must have fallen out of her hands, because the noise it made when it clattered against the flagstones brought her back to reality. She pulled away quickly, looking down immediately to find the watch.

"Is _that_ a lie?" he choked.

"No!" Rose cried, shaking her head, distracted, speaking quickly as she ducked down to retrieve the watch. It was by his left foot. "But you're not John Smith, you're the—" she stood up, the watch clasped safely in her hand once more.

"The Doctor?" Smith's voice hardened, and Rose stared up at him helplessly.

"He…he sounds like, like some romantic, lost prince," Smith shook his head, his eyes still showing signs of desperation. "Would you rather that, to live in a fairy tale?" he spat the last words out.

Rose closed her eyes. Why was he doing this? Didn't he recognise the watch, didn't he _want_ to come back? Why was he ignoring everything that had happened that night?

"Am I not enough for you, as I am?" he pleaded, grabbing both of her hands and squeezing them.

She forced her eyes open. Took a deep breath. Smith was crouched down slightly, so they were looking straight at each other. It was so confusing, having the Doctor, usually so in control, begging her for answers, demanding she believe in him, when he didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Tha's not fair," she frowned, disentangling one of her hands, and raising it to cup his face. There were tiny pricks of day-old stubble on his jaw and she ran her thumb over his cheek. "You promised me, as the Doctor," she stressed quietly. "You…" she swallowed as her voice suddenly crackled and fled. To reject him, when he looked and sometimes acted _exactly_ like him. When he openly loved her, in this form.

"None of this was meant to…_you_ were never meant to…" she shrugged a little, trying to force herself to make him see reason, unable to tell him that he was never supposed to fall for her, when she'd childishly wanted it to happen when he was himself. Her hand fell away. "Three months, you _promised_," she appealed, changing tact. "Three months of hiding, an' then we go back to normal."

Smith startled, his eyes widening slightly as he let her other hand go. Rose subconsciously arched forward, yearning for his touch now it was gone. His hands hovered, for a moment, before falling resolutely to his side.

"What is normal to you?" he shook his head, almost accusing.

"Please, jus' open the watch—" Rose implored.

He took a step backward, his eyes never leaving her face, then shook his head.

"If my dreams are truth," he breathed slowly. "Than my whole _life_ is a lie. And you! Who are you? You frighten me, seeing you like this, it isn't —"

"But I'm Rose!" she insisted, stepping forward to close the gap, again offering the watch.

Before he could respond, there was a call from one of the adjoining rooms.

"Sir, please!"

Smith's head turned, then his gaze fell from the direction of the cry, back to Rose and the watch. "There are people out there who need _me_. Not this fabled Doctor," he spat, then marched out toward the gates.

Rose wanted to scream, looking to the roof again for help, then back to the fob watch. It was cold, and she cupped it, closing her eyes, wondering if it meant they'd _both_ become angry with her.

"But _I_ need _you_."

* * *

The night had gone from abysmally bad to, somehow, worse. The headmaster had been killed, by Lucy Cartwright, who blasted him without a second thought. Rose had hurried outside, as the green beam had hit him in the chest, the silent scream leaving burn marks in the air with his shape as dust spilled onto the packed earth, littered with gunned-down scarecrow remains.

"Put down your guns," Smith had said urgently. Rose had stayed in the doorway, warmth rushing through her at these words from him; she wanted to run out and hug him.

One of the boys had tried to protest, but Smith had been insistent. And, as Baines had entered the gates, firing into the air, and Lucy had turned to face Rose in the doorway, everyone had started running again.

Through the school. Out through the kitchens. Smith herded them all, hurrying, unbolting, shouting orders to them about where to go and who to alert.

"Come on!" he had finally pushed her out the back door, bolting it behind him once the students had all gone ahead. He then turned, and with a nod after the retreating, scattering students, he'd run as well.

Rose pushed herself off the stone wall she'd been flung against, picking up her skirts and hastening after him.

She _had_ to convince him to open the watch, she thought madly, ignoring the branches and brambles that cut into her legs and tore at the trailing white and lavender folds of her once-fine dress. The Doctor obviously hadn't realised that the human him might put up such a fight, when asked to turn back. Otherwise he would not have left the decision up to Smith, and Smith alone, would he?

* * *

"Doctor!" a low call rang through the woods, tauntingly. "Doctor!"

Smith slowed, peering around some trees, holding his hand up to stop her. Rose was still running at full pelt, and grabbed onto his upraised arm to stop herself, bumping into him, and they fell into the leaves littering the woodland floor.

Rose hissed a 'Sorry!' and stayed crouched down, shuffling forward and poking her head around the low-lying branches, flat on her stomach. A cold chill from the earth began to seep through her clothes. Smith shuffled next to her, also watching the front of the school.

"Come back, Doctor," Mr Clarke was calling from the courtyard, standing in front of—

Rose's heart froze, and it had nothing to do with the chill temperature, or the distance Smith was keeping from her since they'd spoken in the hallway.

The Family had found the TARDIS. Mr Clarke was standing in front of it, with a squad of scarecrows behind him.

"Come home!" Clarke teased. "Come and claim your prize!"

Three shadows moved toward the blue box and its guards; stepping into the light. The other three members of the Family emerged, their heads turning, watching, for signs of movement around them. Rose tried to stay very still. Smith was breathing loudly next to her, his eyes locked onto the TARDIS in disbelief.

"Out you come, Doctor," Baines called out in a sing-song voice. "Come to the Family."

"Time to end this silly game," Joan's voice cried out into the night.

Rose couldn't watch them any longer. She turned away from the TARDIS. It would be safe, she tried to convince herself; they couldn't harm it no matter how hard they wanted to. It was only bait, she thought sickeningly.

She'd turned to Smith, and wondered if this other vision of his dreams, the 'funny little blue box', would be enough to convince him to open the watch.

"It's the TARDIS," Rose tried to speak calmly, but her voice shook. "Tha's it's name," she explained.

Smith's head turned quickly to her, his eyes full of horror, full of tears. Rose put a hand on his back, trying to comfort him.

"I'm not—" he uttered, turning back to face the TARDIS, shaking his head, choked up. The tears in eyes pooled in front of his distress. "But I'm John Smith—"

"But you're not—"

"I am," he insisted in a hush desperately. "That's all I want to be, John Smith, with his life, and his job," he gazed up at her, looking lost. "And his love."

Rose tried to ignore this, rubbing his back a little. "Bu' we need the Doctor, can't you see tha'?" she nodded back to the Family, standing guard around their home, calling out taunts and hitting the TARDIS now and then with their guns and sticks.

"Who am _I_ then?" he choked. "Nothing! I'm just a story."

"Scarecrows, to the hunt!"

Rose heard Baines' call in the back of her mind, and did a double take as she saw the few scarecrows surrounding the TARDIS had been joined by many, many more. They were hobbling off, lurching in all directions, some headed straight for them.

"Oh my god, _move_!" Rose scurried to her feet, gripping the back of Smith's coat and dragging him up with her.

Where to run to? Usually, they'd head for the TARDIS, but that wasn't a very clever idea at the moment. Rose flicked a glance over her shoulder as they ran, yet again, for their lives.

Somehow, Rose's legs lead her to the pub. It was the only place she could think of, that might not be guarded; undoubtedly, the abandoned shed they had hidden the TARDIS in would be crawling with scarecrows, in case they tried to go back and didn't realise the Family had the TARDIS.

Rose ran around the side of the pub, into the warehouse at the back and crouched behind some empty kegs.

"What do we do now?" Smith whispered, crouching next to her.

Rose bit her tongue. She'd nearly snapped a 'so, you're listenin' to me now?' at him. It wouldn't be fair. She'd promised the Doctor she'd protect him, and yelling at the fear-filled and confused Smith would not do either of them any good.

She gripped the watch tightly, just once, and felt the smallest of warm shudders from it in response. She held it out to him again.

"Please, jus' hold it," she spoke quietly. "It's the only way to end this."

Smith visibly retracted again, his lips tightening. Rose could tell he didn't want to continue discussing it, but they had no choice.

"I know...from your dreams," Rose started slowly, more to fill the silent void. "Tha' he seems scary. Like a…a storm."

"Stop it," Smith snapped in a whisper.

"Bu' he's not," Rose continued, ignoring him. "He's _wonderful_," she closed her eyes and smiled, remembering, tears rising to the surface again. He had to be difficult, didn't he?

"Stop it, I said stop it," Smith hurried, a more desperate edge to his voice now.

Rose forced her eyes open. "He's wonderful, an' I—"

_BOOM!_

A white flash blinded her, as the resounding _BOOM _shook her bones. Smith, despite his previous desperation and apparent frustration, leaped forward, pushing Rose down, his body arched protectively over her.

The stars cleared, and Rose could see again. Smith was staring down at her, his face inches from hers, his eyes wide with recognition, with grief, and again with disbelief.

"You remember this, don't you?" Rose unwittingly recalled the last blast he'd shielded her from; when they'd blown up a science lab to try destroy Lazarus.

Smith opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

There was another flash of white, another resonating _BOOM _that shook everything, and Smith crouched down again over Rose.

"They're destroying the village!" Smith called over the sound. They stayed down until the world darkened and stilled, once more. Smith recovered, and he leaped to his feet, peering around the empty kegs, a bit of straw in his hair.

Rose scrambled to her feet, and before John could protest, closed his fingers over the watch and cupped his fist with both her hands, hoping.

"The watch, Doctor. You need to open it."

"It's asleep," he hissed, distracted by the bombs falling around the village.

Rose's attention was caught a moment as what looked like a large meteor fell from the sky, and another blast rocked the earth. It seemed further away than the previous two blasts. Then Smith's words sunk in; _it's asleep_. She gripped her hands, tighter around his, feeling his fingers close around the watch more securely between them.

"It's been speaking to me," she whispered, not wanting to talk too quickly, in case he pulled back and started protesting again.

Smith nodded knowingly. "Low level telepathic field," he was still watching the skies, ducking as another 'meteor' fell, this time closer than before. "Down!" he yelled, and both he and Rose again dove for the straw-covered ground of the warehouse. Their hands fell apart.

When Rose had dusted herself off this time, she looked up to see Smith, on one knee, staring at the watch in his hands, frozen; as though it had grabbed his attention as he'd been getting to his feet. The war zone outside the warehouse seemed forgotten.

"I…" he suddenly looked up, very quickly, to Rose. "I…know how it works," he sounded scared.

Rose nodded, very slightly, too afraid to move. _Please, just open it_, she thought desperately.

Another echoing _BOOM _sounded, but this time neither Rose nor Smith seemed to notice it.

Smith stared back down at the watch cupped in his hands. "So, I'm…going to die?" he said, with some difficulty, not looking at Rose as he spoke.

Rose remained still, a lump in her throat. In a sense, she guessed he was right. Smith's life here in 1913 wouldn't continue.

Smith clenched his eyes, then stood shakily, as another, further blast shook the warehouse lightly.

"And…you, you're his...my, friend?" he flashed her quick glance, his lip quivering.

Rose nodded, trying to smile, but unable to. "Always."

"Does he…" Smith looked between the watch and Rose. "Does he love you?" he asked quickly, worry etched in his brow.

Rose tried again, unsuccessfully to smile, as the lump in her throat got larger. She exhaled quickly, a small, nervous laugh escaping. "I dunno!"

Smith's eyes watered. "How could--?"

"'s complicated," Rose shrugged quickly, evasively.

Another bright flash, another _BOOM_, this time very close.

Smith crouched down again and Rose ducked, both startled by proximity of the blast.

When the shock wave had stopped shaking the ground, Rose looked back up to him, grabbing his hand. She could feel the watch, burning brightly through it, and dimly wondered why he was waiting?

"We need him," she explained seriously, nodding to the chaos outside. "--I need him," she closed her eyes, not trusting herself to look at him as she said it. "He's…he's everythin', to me. He's all I got left."

When she opened her eyes, Smith was still staring back at her. The watch warmed her and smoothed out the crease of worry etched in her brow; she felt her whole face relax in that moment.

His eyes were warmer now, no longer so scared. Rose wondered if he was receiving the same energy from the watch that she was? Or if he felt something else?

"_I_ love you," he declared in a whisper, his free hand cupping the back of her neck. "Don't you ever forget that, Rose Tyler."

Rose closed her eyes, wanting to laugh, and cry, all at once. She felt his lips press against her forehead, briefly, and knew at once that this was John Smith, the human who loved her, saying goodbye.

When she felt him shift back, she opened her eyes.

He opened the watch.

* * *

The Doctor had known what to do, almost immediately, a queer coldness overcoming his features.

"Wait here," he hadn't even looked at her, as he'd stood and closed the pocket watch, his eyes on the meteor bombs raining down on the village.

Rose had, for the first time since he had ever asked her, stayed behind and waited. She watched him leave, suddenly afraid, feeling weak and tired, as though all the blood and energy had drained out of her. She sat against one of the empty kegs, leaning her head against it, holding her knees, closing her eyes and trying to focus on one thought; there were a thousand of them, flitting about like tiny, slippery silver fish. He was back. Smith, and his love for her, was as good as dead. Could he stop the Family? Was he mad at her for how she'd treated Smith? Would he leave her behind?

She didn't have long to dwell on the fragments of thought, tearing at her sanity. Not long after the Doctor's departure, there was a final, shuddering blast, quite different from the other blasts; one that carried the screech of twisting metal with it, echoing throughout the village.

Rose opened her eyes, got to her feet. Tried to dust herself off. White and lavender shreds of material, stained with earth and blood hung at her knees. Her legs and arms were scratched, dried drips of blood trailing darkly down the exposed skin. She pushed her hair back, feeling grime, sweat, tears, and more blood.

She stepped out of the warehouse, heading back to the school, to the TARDIS.

* * *

The Doctor's cold mood hadn't improved as he'd returned to the TARDIS, almost ten minutes after Rose had settled into her favourite seat, too tired to move and dress her wounds or get changed. He was leading the beaten Family, their mutinous faces covered in soot, their eyes cold and frightened. Rose thought she felt the TARDIS hum in approval as he entered.

With a sideways nod of acknowledgement to Rose, he'd then turned back to the Family. Stood, silently, as they lined up in front of him. His hands were behind his back, and he paced a little. Rose watched as though experiencing a dream, like she wasn't really there, and it wasn't really _him_ pacing his console again.

He had been silent, as he'd dealt out justice to the Family. Mr Clarke had been bound in unbreakable chains; Joan had been pushed into the event horizon of a collapsing galaxy. Lucy had been trapped in every mirror, to hide eternally in the corner of people's eyes. And Baines; finally, had been tied to a cross, in a field.

Rose had watched, from a distance, just outside the TARDIS doors, as the Doctor had slipped a Hessian sack over the head of the stasis form of Jeremy Baines, transforming him into a scarecrow that looked just like his prior straw-made soldiers.

They would live forever, now, just as they had always wanted to.

* * *

Once the Family had been taken care of, the Doctor returned to the TARDIS. Rose stood, arms crossed, watching him carefully.

He smiled shortly up at her as he climbed the hill, "It's done."

Rose nodded, swaying a little and feeling cold. There was a mist hanging in the air, as though it wanted to rain, but the atmosphere couldn't quite form droplets of water.

"So," he regarded the earth between them for a moment, then clapped his hands. The sudden noise startled Rose.

"Onward and upward?" he asked quickly, nodding toward the TARDIS' open doors.

Rose nodded dumbly again, not trusting herself to speak without her voice shaking and breaking.

It was finally _over_, she reminded herself. The tears welled at the sheer relief that his question had invoked; he wanted to keep travelling with her.

There was a guilt there, overhanging the relief like a dark shadow, as Rose wondered how they were going to move forward from his time as a human, when he had loved her unashamedly, and she had used him, and even encouraged him sometimes, knowing it could never last.

She closed her eyes, trying to refocus, and turned back to the TARDIS. She knew the Doctor; he wouldn't want to dwell on what had passed, it wasn't productive.

But she couldn't stop the question.

"Where's…John Smith?" she asked, her voice carrying an embarrassing waver as she regarded a spot of mud on the TARDIS' door.

She heard him take a couple of steps closer, the grass and gravel crunching almost silently.

"He's in here. Somewhere," he spoke calmly, in a soft tone.

Rose turned her head back to him quickly, her eyes full of fear. He was watching her, a small, considerate smile on his face, his hands in his pockets.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, closing her eyes, and spoke hesitantly. "Do…you remember--?"

"Yes," he cut her off.

"Everything?" she opened her eyes and locked his gaze.

"Yeap," he was nodding, swaying on his heels a little, his brown eyes deep with memories.

Rose nodded with some difficulty, and turned back, taking a step into the TARDIS.

"Rose?" the Doctor called hurriedly.

She turned around, leaning a hand on the TARDIS' door frame. Her legs felt a little shaky, so she was grateful for the support from the beloved blue box.

"I…" he blinked, them smiled, calm again. "I never said thank you. For looking after me."

Rose shook her head, a laugh bubbling to the surface. "I nearly got us both killed, I was _rubbish_-"

"No, no you weren't," the Doctor cut her off and strolled forward again, stopping at the base of the TARDIS. Rose looked down at him from the landing. He had that cheeky glint in his eyes, the corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. A look she'd not seen for months. Her heart leaped as she again realised just how much she had missed him, how happy she was to have him back.

"You were magnificent," his grin expanded.

Rose felt her face go hot, and looked down. _Magnificent_?

"Doctor, I don't know if you remember," she spoke hurriedly, "But you didn' want to change. Back from being Smith," she looked up and saw him nodding, his grin quelling until his mouth was a straight line. She continued with hesitance. "_Do_ you remember? Everythin' you _said_, while you were 'im?"

The Doctor put a hand on Rose's shoulder, in a more comradely way than Smith had, the previous night. "I remember, Rose. Everything that John Smith was – is me, as well."

"But you were so different--"

"Oh, I dunno," he cut her off quietly. "We're not _all_ that different," he paused, a meaningful, and again cheeky glint in his eyes. "Both _devilishly_ charming," his eyes continued to sparkle, not a trace of regret to be found.

His face changed before Rose could respond.

"Except for the bow ties. What was he thinking?" he pondered, crossing his brows.

Rose laughed, the warmth of his words lightening her mind, though a part of her still ached. "I was _sure_ you'd be mad at me," she shook her head. "For lettin' you – him, I mean…you know. When it could never…"

She left it at that. What she left unsaid hung in the air between them, crackling, charged like lightening. The Doctor finally gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, then dashed past her, into the TARDIS.

"Where do you fancy?" he called out behind him, reaching the console and flicking a couple of switches. The TARDIS responded immediately.

Rose closed the door, still laughing at his frenzied energy, that she'd missed so much. She stepped across the TARDIS to her seat, flopping down onto it and crossing her feet on the console.

"Oh," threw her hands up. "Surprise me," she grinned.

The Doctor mirrored her grin, leaning over the console. And there it was – pride – the pride she'd never seen in Smith's eyes, sparkling in the Doctor's so fiercely.

He, the Doctor, was proud of her. And the part of him that belonged to John Smith? That part of him loved her.

"_I love you. Don't you ever forget that, Rose Tyler."_

She wouldn't. She didn't think she could forget John Smith, even if she'd wanted to. But she didn't want to, she realised. John Smith, despite any flaws, had been brave; so brave. He had chosen to die, for everybody, when he hadn't understood what he was dying for. And she loved him back for it.

"Well," the Doctor considered, unaware of Rose's realisations, moving to his monitor and swinging it to face him. "We've done scarecrows, we've done tin men--"

Rose shuddered at the thought of Cybermen, but was amazed to discover the memory no longer burned her as much. No tears.

"-- but we _haven't_ done," he tapped some keys, eyes on the monitor, then flicked a lever with a flourish, and strolled over to where Rose was sitting, "cowardly lions," he smirked.

Rose raised her eyebrows at him. "Planet of the Cowardly Lions?"-- was he serious?

"Yeap," he nodded, the glint in his eyes telling her there was – of course - more to it than that.

"Rubbish," she shook her head, laughing. "How can there be a whole planet of cowardly lions?"

"Oh, it's not just lions," the Doctor cut in knowingly, leaning against the console now, hands in his pockets. "There's also tigers, and bears," he raised his eyebrows quickly, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Rose stared at him, unimpressed. "Oh, my," she answered dryly.

The Doctor jumped into action, grinning again and turning back to the console.

Rose laughed softly. He was mad. Their lives, were mad. And she loved it.

Despite all the scarecrows, tin men and chaos they had met, there really was no place like home.

* * *

…_the next episode is Blink…_

* * *


	12. Episode10: Blink

BLINK

_Blink was my favourite episode last season and I've really enjoyed, this time around, not only integrating Rose, but coming up with the sequence of events myself, since we didn't see their side of the story in the original episode. Let me know what you think!_

* * *

There was no denying that the Doctor and Rose had a complex life. Things didn't always happen to them in the right order.

Rose expected that for a seasoned Time Lord, it was easy. He was used to it; he knew no other way to exist, popping in and out of everyone else's one-way lives.

But for Rose, it could still get a bit confusing at times. Doing the oddest things, for no discernable reason, except that they had to do it, or the future wouldn't happen, they'd create a time paradox, and two-thirds of the universe would disappear. Apparently.

"People assume that time is this great progression from cause to effect. But actually, from a non-linear non-subjective view point it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly…timey-wimey…stuff," the Doctor trailed off to the camera.

Rose raised her eyebrow to this, looking again at the pages of the transcript. What had possessed him to say that - ever?

She mentally nudged herself to keep on task, though her brain felt like it was fast asleep and full of sludge.

"Yeah, I've seen this bit before. You said that sentence got away from you," she read to him.

He answered predictably, though thoughtfully. "It got away from me, yeah."

Rose traced her finger along the next line. "Next thing you're going to say is 'well I can hear you'," she read.

"Well I _can_ hear you," the Doctor answered to the camera.

"This is impossible," she rolled her eyes, in a droning voice, still reading.

"Well, not hear you exactly, but I know everything you're going to say," he replied to the camera knowingly.

Billy grinned at Rose from across the room, where he was seated behind the camera. He raised his eyebrows, idly tapping his pen on the clipboard full of pages on his knee; his own copy of the transcript.

Rose grinned back. Two more pages, their work would be done, and hopefully, the TARDIS would be showing up to get them out of there.

If only Billy and the others could come with them, she thought sadly. But he had a task, in this timeline. If he abandoned that task, it would…you know. Two-thirds of the universe, destroyed, all over again.

The ex-D.I. chimed in with the next line. "How can you know what I'm gonna say?"

The Doctor smiled. "Look to your left."

* * *

Rose looked to her left, at the call, and stopped in her tracks, turning back. The Doctor did the same next to her.

"Doctor!" the voice called again. A young girl with long blonde hair, standing outside a shop, was calling to him and smiling, for some reason, excited.

Rose immediately but subconsciously bristled. Who the hell was this blonde bird who recognised the Doctor in modern London? No one should have known they were here, now, chasing down…well…whatever it really was.

"Ah, hello," the Doctor spun about to face the girl on the sidewalk. "Sorry," he indicated the direction they'd been running. "Bit of a rush, there's a sort of…thing happening," he stammered. "Very important that we…stop it," he turned back to Rose and nodded them forward.

Rose nodded back, turning to continue. She adjusted the bow on her shoulder a little so the string wouldn't cut into her so much--

"My god, it's you," the girl said in a rush. "It _really_ is you."

Rose turned back, and realised the Doctor had faltered again.

"Oh, you don't remember, do you?" the girl's smile wavered a little.

Rose rolled her eyes and hurried back to him. "Believe me, if he had a fan club, he'd remember," she grabbed the Doctor by the coat arm and pushed her fringe out of her eyes. "We gotta keep movin', righ'?"

"And Rose!" the girl's smile grew warmer, as she appeared to recognise her.

Rose stopped and stared at the girl, briefly. Someone from school? No. Someone from Henriks? No, definitely not. Someone mum had known?

"Look, sorry, we…don't exactly…always…" the Doctor started, scratching behind his ear.

"Oh my god, of course," the girl cut in, realising something, making Rose jump. "Time travellers! It hasn't happened to you yet, none of it. It's still in your future."

Rose felt chills creep down her spine. "Wha' hasn't happened yet?" she asked quickly.

"Uh, no, better not," the Doctor interjected and looked down at Rose. "Not healthy to know too much about your own future. Always have to pretend to look surprised," he mused as an afterthought.

"Righ'," Rose shook her head, trying to throw off the odd, creepy feeling.

"It was me," the girl realised something else, again, sounding amazed.

Rose and the Doctor both turned back to her.

"Oh, for God's sake, it was me all along," she laughed. "You got it all from me!"

"Got what?" the Doctor took a step toward her.

"Okay. Listen," the girl took his hand in both of hers, squaring him down, her eyes sparkling with animation. "One day you're both going to get stuck in 1969," she revealed.

Rose gaped a little, but before she could respond--

"Make sure you've got this with you," the girl continued, nodding to the Doctor's hand clasped with hers.

Rose looked down. She'd placed a transparent purple envelope into the Doctor's hands, as she'd grasped them.

"You're going to need it," the girl grinned, dropping her hands to her side.

The Doctor was staring down the girl, one eyebrow raised, as though calculating whether this was some elaborate trick or trap.

"Doctor?" Rose asked quietly, a hand on his elbow.

The Doctor seemed to snap out of his contemplation, shaking his head and quickly replying, "Yeah, listen, listen, gotta dash, things…happening," he turned to leave, and reconsidered. "Well, four things. And a lizard."

The girl nodded encouragingly. "Okay. No worries! On you go," she waved.

Rose started forward again, trying to pull her mind away from the oddness of experiencing something from the wrong side of the timeline, yet again.

"See you around some day!" the girl called after them.

Rose waved over her shoulder, and started running back down the sidewalk.

"What was your name?" she heard the Doctor call out.

"Sally Sparrow!" the girl called after their retreating forms.

"Bye, Sally!" Rose called back, stopping and giving the Doctor a look. "C'mon!"

The Doctor gave Sally a final nod and hurried to join Rose.

"What was that all about?" Rose asked him as they ran.

The Doctor shrugged, putting the purple envelope inside his coat, no doubt into one of his clever pockets that were bigger on the inside, Rose smiled to herself.

"I dunno. But I can't wait to find out! Now," he nodded to an upcoming corner, "we turn left here, and _hopefully_, we're not too late to stop the hatching."

Rose nodded, turning left at a run, the Doctor by her side. The sun was in their eyes from this side of town, and she raised her hand, shielding her eyes.

* * *

"The lonely assassins, they used to be called," the Doctor was explaining.

Rose put the transcript down next to her. The Doctor went on for a bit, now, so she didn't have to do anything. She'd already said her bit, though she'd felt silly doing it. Poking her head in, telling Sally that she'd gotten a job to support the Doctor, since they were stranded.

"And they have survived this long because they have the most perfect defence system, ever evolved," the Doctor continued, talking to the camera as though it really was Sally Sparrow. "They're quantum locked. They don't exist, when they're being observed."

Quantum locked. Rose tested the words, mouthing them. Just like they were now. Quantum locked in 1969.

"You all righ'?" Sally Shipton whispered from behind Rose.

Rose smiled back over her shoulder at Billy's wife. She was holding two mugs of tea by the handles, offering one of the mugs to Rose.

"Oh, you're a sweetheart," Rose accepted the mug gratefully, taking a sip.

Sally Shipton leaned against the wall, her red hair swishing over her shoulder, sipping her tea and nodding to the Doctor. "Nearly finished?"

Rose nodded, noticing that Billy was also nursing a cup of tea of his own, but was still focussed on the camera, and the Doctor.

"Course, a stone can't kill you either," the Doctor's words rang out. "But then you turn your head away. Then you blink. And oh yes it can."

* * *

The garden was overrun with a wild beauty. She could see creepers and tiny white flowers clumped together around a small, moss-covered stone courtyard, as she looked out the large window.

A blue glow in Rose's peripheral; she turned to the Doctor and watched him, holding the sonic screwdriver with both hands, aiming it at a poorly painted, green wall.

"Find anything?"

"Well," the Doctor sniffed behind her, the sonic buzzing stopping for a moment. "There's definite indications of time fluxes in this room, but nothing to suggest our Sally Sparrow, or the TARDIS, were ever here," he smiled at Rose. "Perhaps we're too early?"

She smirked at him. "Or, _maybe_," Rose started, hinting back on a conversation they'd had a couple of times already since being handed the envelope. "She was a bit…you know," she shrugged. "A bit thick? Or wanted to trick us, for some reason?"

The Doctor faced the wall again, his hands on his hips, and shook his head. "Better write the message anyway, just in case," he resolved, pulling a black marker out of his coat pocket.

Rose shrugged; this seemed so silly. Wester Drumlins was run down, and marked unsafe by a big red sign on the rusted fence. Why would _anyone_ come here? Rose turned back to the window, as the Doctor wrote his message to Sally Sparrow on the wall.

The sunlight shone down through the leaves of the teeming garden, creating a dappled effect over…

Rose's eyes widened.

A dramatic, life-sized statue of an angel now stood in the small, stone courtyard, both hands over its eyes. To anyone else, it would have been beautiful; had Rose not gone through Sally Sparrow's purple envelope earlier with the Doctor, she would have perhaps idly overlooked the statue, and reminisced about the time they'd gone to Ancient Rome, and both, at different times, been turned into statues themselves.

But not today. The fear curled its way up Rose's throat and she let out a squeak, covering her mouth.

"What is it?" the Doctor called through the corner of his mouth. Rose could still hear the scribbling of his pen on the wall.

"Uhm…" Rose uncovered her mouth, and pointed, wanting, but not game enough, to look away. Just in case Sally was right. It hadn't been there a moment ago. And now it was. Just like in the photos. One of the Weeping Angels.

The Doctor was by her side, Rose suddenly noticed as he laid a hand on her lower back, but she didn't look at him.

"Is that--?" Rose felt the need to whisper.

"Yes," the Doctor cut her off hurriedly, also in whisper.

"So, we're going to –?" Rose swallowed.

"Looks like it," the Doctor shrugged.

"Whether we want to or not?" Rose hurried in a strained whisper.

"Apparently so," the Doctor commented.

"Ugh!" Rose hit his arm. "Why can't we stop this from happenin'? I don't want to be stuck in 1969!"

"Hold this," the Doctor ignored Rose's outburst, and pushed the purple envelope into her chest, his eyes locked on the Weeping Angel still. "And give me your TARDIS key."

"No!" Rose cried, hurriedly putting the papers and photos all together again and shoving them into the envelope. "What about the TARDIS? Doctor, we can stop this!"

"No, we can't!" the Doctor barked, his eyes locked onto the statue. "The TARDIS will be fine, the police will find it. Your key, quickly!"

Rose wanted to cry as she looked back to the Weeping Angel, hating it. They really were going to be flung back in time, without the TARDIS, and they were going to take her key from her. She snapped the chain that held it, and the fob watch that had once been the Doctor's Time Lord memories, in her anger, unthreading the key and shoving it into his outstretched palm.

"There, take it!" she spat. She felt tears in her eyes as she tucked the fob watch and the broken silver chain into her hoodie pocket and clutched the purple envelope to her chest.

The Doctor, eyes still on the Weeping Angel, threaded Rose's TARDIS key through a piece of rope, and hung it on the window frame, in a slow, deliberate movement. Then he stepped back to Rose's side.

"You can blink now," he said quietly, his hand back on her back, guiding her. "It might hurt a little, but just remember--"

"No," Rose glared, locking her eyes on the Weeping Angel in the courtyard. It hadn't moved, yet. Maybe, if she could manage it, it never would.

"Rose, you must--" the Doctor was facing her left side, ducking to her level.

"What if I don't?" she frowned, her face scrunching up a little, but her eyes still on the statue.

He seemed to dance a little in exasperation by her side, but she couldn't see him entirely.

"I _know_ you're scared," he said in a somewhat strained voice, as though forcing himself to speak calmly. "I'm scared too."

Rose shook her head. The image of the Weeping Angel, with its hands covering its eyes, burned itself into her mind. She would never forget that pose…

"But I'm here, Rose. I'm right here. We'll do this together," he took Rose's arm, and she had to stop herself from instinctively moving into a hug. Her eyes watered profusely. The Doctor held his arms around her, side on, expecting her to turn. She wouldn't do it. She _couldn't_. Not yet, what if it didn't work, what if they were stuck in 1969 with no way of getting back?

"Look at me, _please_," he urged her softly. "We can't stop it. Can't control it," His breath fluttered over her neck and left ear warmly, and Rose subconsciously closed her eyes at the sensation.

Then the world was black.

* * *

Rose looked away from him sadly, and noticed Sally shiver.

"Ooh, this is madness, it is," she huffed.

"Feels like it," Rose smiled back, rolling her eyes. "Bu' we gotta trust her."

Sally shook her head and spoke into her mug of tea with some hesitance. "What if it doesn't work?"

Rose turned back to the Doctor. It _had_ to work. "We'd be stuck here," she shrugged.

"Loneliest creatures in the universe," the Doctor was finishing up his spiel. "And I'm sorry. I am very, very sorry. It's up to you now."

"Not _all_ that bad, then, eh?" Sally put her hand on Rose's arm, trying to lighten the mood. "You could live out the 70's with us."

Rose laughed a little, shaking her head. "It'd drive him mental," she nodded to the Doctor.

"Aw, c'mon Rose," Sally nudged her again. "You an' him, settling down together finally an' getting' a mortgage like the rest of us poor saps," she rolled her eyes.

Rose smiled and sipped her tea, but didn't answer. That could never happen. Sure, it had been nice, for a few months, going to work again and hanging out in their apartment. The Doctor had held up surprisingly well, considering he was being made to wait it out in the one spot, until Billy Shipton showed up.

Her mum had asked her too, once, if she was ever going to settle down, stop travelling and have kids like everyone else. Back then, she'd said no, without thinking. No, because the Doctor would never settle down.

But wouldn't he? Would it really drive him mental? As John Smith, he'd been more than ready to have a job, get married and have children. But Rose hadn't wanted that future. The real Doctor wouldn't have wanted that either, would he?

If anything, the past few months being stranded in 1969 had reaffirmed that she really didn't like living the boring old one-way life. There was something alive in her, that had woken when the Doctor had taken her on her first journey to the end of the world. Something wild, and frantic and energised, that sat itself in her mind whenever she stood still for too long, tapping its fingers, impatient for her to get going again. A part of her that demanded she not settle. It had gotten louder and more insistent, since they'd been stuck in London for so long.

Did the Doctor feel this? The urgency, the almost desperate yearning, to get moving? Almost like they were late for something important, but didn't know what?

"Don't blink. Don't even blink," the Doctor raised his voice to the camera. Rose watched him, a nervous sensation sparking in the back of her mind; this was it.

"Blink and you're dead. They are fast, faster than you could believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink," he sat back. "Good luck."

* * *

Rose laughed and flopped down on the couch. "I'm gonna need more than luck!"

"Nah, you'll be fine," the Doctor turned back to the coffee table, putting a cable in his teeth as he clamped two others together. "You've worked for them before."

Rose sat forward, and gave him a look. "In 2005. I can't exactly tell 'em tha', can I?"

"Point taken," the Doctor nodded, twisting the third cable that had been in his teeth around a tiny ring inside a red box, his eyes on the task. "So, don't go," he said lightly.

Rose sighed – _here we go again_.

"Why do you need to work?" he continued, putting the box down on the coffee table and dusting his hands off, shifting so he was facing her now. "We've gotten by so far--"

"On stolen money," Rose cut in. She shifted as well, her knee on the couch, turning toward him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't just rob a bank _every_ time we need a week's rent, or a bottle of milk."

"I'm not robbing banks!" the Doctor sounded aghast.

"Okay, _let_ the sonic screwdriver keep robbin' the Barclay's teller," she shook her head, her hand dropping back to her lap. "Anyway, the point is--"

"Yes, yes, I know," the Doctor looked back to his work, and started sonicing the inside of the small red box that housed all the cables. "Sally Sparrow's transcript had you in it, saying that you're working in a shop to support me," he said in a rush.

The Doctor's mouth formed a straight line. Rose knew why he was still trying to dissuade her, even when he knew she had to do it.

He felt guilty. They'd been flung back into 1969 with nothing but each other, the sonic screwdriver, massive headaches and a purple envelope full of instructions.

The first, being to find Billy Shipton. Who would show up, apparently, in June.

It was currently late March. London was budding with new life and spring, shaking off the final gusty shackles of winter.

Rose tried a small smile. "It'll give me somethin' to do, while you're poking around with your wibbly-wobbly detector thing," she nodded to the red box in his hands.

He stopped sonicing, and Rose sat back, resting her head against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. It was made of Styrofoam tiles.

"And you're happy doing this?" the Doctor sat back as well after a moment. "Working in a shop again?"

Rose turned her head slightly to her right, and looked at him, side-on. Of course she wasn't _happy_ about it. But it wasn't his fault, either. She grinned. "Two-thirds of the universe depends on it."

The Doctor chuckled a little at this, and she turned her head back to the ceiling, glad to have broken through his concern.

"Have we got any food?"

"Oh, uhm, right. Dinner," the Doctor looked toward the kitchen. "There _might_ be some marmalade, I think?"

"Mm," Rose scrunched up her nose, then stood. "Right, you're taking me to dinner then."

The Doctor held out his hands, laughing. "I don't have any money."

Rose crossed her arms, wondering why she wasn't surprised, giving him a sideways look. "I don't get paid for another week."

"It's all right," the Doctor stood, winking. "Dinner's on Barclays," he grabbed the sonic screwdriver, tossing it playfully in his hand and catching it. "Let's go celebrate your new old job and old new Henriks," he grabbed her hand and they headed for the door, Rose pocketing the apartment keys on the way out, laughing at him.

Even on this slow path in 1969, they were running hand in hand, day to day. Despite having to go back to being a shop girl for a while, Rose had her promise of escape, and she held onto it.

* * *

"An' that's a wrap, Doctor," Billy stood, busying himself with buttons on the back of the camera.

Sally clapped and even let out a cheer, hurrying over to Billy. He handed her the clipboard holding his transcript and started taking the camera off the tripod.

Rose stayed, leaning against the wall, chewing her thumbnail. She strained her ears, for sounds of the TARDIS.

The Doctor was in front of her, rubbing his forehead, looking tired.

"So, that's it, then," he nodded.

Rose nodded quickly, pulling her hand away from her mouth and tucking her fringe behind an ear. She was growing more and more nervous; where was the TARDIS? Why hadn't it shown up, as soon as the tape had been finished?

The Doctor wasn't speaking either, his hands in his coat pockets, and Rose could tell he was nervous, as well.

He spun on his heels, "Billy, you know that has to go on all seventeen DVDs once they're--?"

"Yes, Doctor, I know," Billy cut in. He was laughing about something with Sally, and waved his hand at the Doctor. "I have my instructions, boss," he patted a transparent purple envelope, on the table near the camera.

"Good! Good," the Doctor spun back to face Rose again.

"Where…what happens now?" Rose asked quickly.

The Doctor shrugged. "Oh, she'll be along any minute…" he smiled encouragingly at her.

Rose tried to smile back.

* * *

Four hours passed. It was now close to midnight. Rose and the Doctor had been invited back to Billy and Sally's house, since they'd already handed the apartment keys to the estate agents, not expecting to have need of them again.

Sally and Billy had already gone to bed, and said their goodbyes; Billy confident that when they woke, 'the Doctor and his gorgeous girl will be gone', with a grin.

Rose sat, slumped at the kitchen table, a mug of tea in her hands. She tapped the ceramic glaze with her fingernails, trying to think. What were they going to do now? Rose looked up.

The Doctor leaned against the kitchen bench, an eyebrow raised as he stared into his own mug.

"I suppose it's not _all_ bad," the Doctor spoke.

Rose waited, a questioning look on her face.

He faltered slightly, looking unsure. "You know. 1969. You, me, and our little apartment in London," he laughed.

Rose flushed, and tried not to laugh. "Well, stuck with you, that's no' so bad."

"Yeah?" the Doctor smiled, considering.

Rose smiled back. Oddly, she felt as though they'd had this conversation before, and then remembered the black hole. And Krop Tor. This time the conversation seemed a whole less awkward.

"I…I mean, we'd have to settle down," the Doctor frowned now.

The bright, restless part of Rose's mind protested as he said it. The last time they'd been stranded, _truly_ stranded, they'd not just sat in the kitchen and given up. They'd kept going. Kept fighting.

"Doctor, there's _always_ a chance that we missed somethin'," Rose told him earnestly. "We just gotta think."

The Doctor's eyes snapped to Rose's, and he locked her gaze, as though he was waiting for her to continue. Rose tried again to mentally step through the sequence of events Sally had documented, to find something useful to say.

"Right," he shook his head finally, moving forward and taking a seat next to Rose with purpose.

"Righ'," Rose nodded, sitting up straighter and pushing aside her tea.

He paused. "We have missed something," he said with resolve, after a moment.

She closed her eyes. "We have."

The Doctor and Rose recalled aloud Sally Sparrow's story that she'd left for them in the purple envelope. It wasn't difficult; Rose had read it so many times, to make sure they _didn't_ miss anything, she knew it by heart.

"An' then, they got to the cellar—"

"The TARDIS was waiting--"

"An' so were three Weepin' angels, tryin' to get in."

"Right," the Doctor was nodding. "But only Sally had the key, which she'd taken from them earlier."

"Yeah," Rose squirmed a little. _Her_ key.

"Sally and Laurence entered the TARDIS and put in the DVD--" the Doctor continued.

"Don't know _how_ they figured that part out," Rose huffed, crossing her arms.

"Yes, well I expect the TARDIS--" the Doctor stopped, and was quiet a moment. Then, he leaped out of the chair. It fell backward with a clatter onto the kitchen linoleum. "Of course!"

"Wha'?" Rose grinned. That was a _good_ reaction. He'd figured it out!

"Ha-ha!" he held his hands up, laughing to the ceiling, then brought them down onto Rose's shoulders. Rose startled at his sudden movements.

"Sally didn't mention anything about how they knew to put the DVD into the TARDIS. She either forgot or thought it would be obvious to me," he was speaking very quickly, but Rose wished he would get to the point, quicker. Did he know how to get them home?

"An'…is it?" Rose prompted.

"It is now! C'mon!" he grabbed her hand, pulling her up from the kitchen table and running through the house, out into the front yard. He stopped on the lawn, looking up to the sky, breathing small puffs of smoke.

Rose steadied herself. "Doctor, what's goin' on?"

He grinned down at her, a manic edge in his voice. "Listen!"

She was still confused, but she swallowed her questions and listened. Everything was still, and quiet.

"I don't hear—"

"Shh!" the Doctor shushed her.

Rose pursed her lips, strained her ears.

"D'you hear it?" the Doctor asked quietly, his eyes snapping to hers, shining with excitement.

She tried again. And gasped. Like a whisper through the back of her mind, she heard it. But they hadn't _done_ anything!

"Yes!" she squeaked, grinning at him. "I hear it!" she jumped up and down on the spot in excitement for a moment. "Oh, Doctor, we're going home!"

"We're going home!" he repeated, energised.

Rose flung her arms around the Doctor's neck in a hug and he swung her around, both laughing in utter delight. The TARDIS materialised around them, and when they pulled back from each other, they were inside, by the console, the TARDIS winding down.

They whooped and leaped about the console room like children then, the relief overcoming them.

Rose grabbed her TARDIS key, which was flung over a lever on the console, and held it up victoriously.

* * *

"Are you goin' to tell me how you did it, then?" Rose asked him later. The Doctor was fiddling with his monitor, and she leaned against the console, watching him work.

"Did what?"

She crossed her arms.

He looked up after a moment's silence, and regarded her.

"Oh!" it came to him. "Remember the trashcan," he stated, and turned back to his monitor, tapping a couple of keys.

Rose laughed. "I'm sorry?"

He smiled, his voice full of cleverness. "Bill S Preston Esquire, and Theodore Logan," he explained, punching a couple of buttons to the left of the monitor, then going back to the keyboard. "Clever boys," his smile grew cheekier. "Had a phone box of their own, you know. Though, of course, not as nice as mine," he looked up at the centre console fondly.

"Are you sayin' Bill an' Ted?" Rose gaped, trying to keep him on track, "got the TARDIS back?"

"Sort of," the Doctor leaped away from the monitor, to the other side of the console, and retrieved his sonic screwdriver.

"Bill and Ted, the movie?" Rose stressed, turning to face him.

Doctor nodded, raising his eyebrows quickly at her, then raised the sonic screwdriver and pointed it to a control on the console.

Rose, horrendously confused, moved back to her seat and watched him.

The Doctor stared at a point on the console as something hummed.

"This is security protocol seven-one-two. This time capsule has detected the presence of an authorised control disk. Valid one journey. Please insert the disk and prepare for departure."

"There!" he buzzed the sonic screwdriver to stop the recording, and ran back to his monitor. "Now, just integrate it into the TARDIS' memory banks security system," he muttered, typing away.

Rose shook her head. She thought she had figured out what the Doctor had been going on about, with the Bill and Ted nonsense. Ted, getting everyone out of jail near the end of the movie, by standing tall, closing his eyes, and speaking "remember, the trashcan." Manipulating the future, by using the potential of the present.

There was only one problem. "Bu', we're ahead of tha' timeline now. How can you send a recording back to the TARDIS of the past--?"

"Aw, come now, Rose!" the Doctor hit the last key with a flourish and smiled widely, stepping around to stand in front of her. "I'm much cleverer than Bill and Ted."

Rose laughed at the sparkle in his eyes, the cheekiness of his grin. He though he was _so_ clever. Okay, sure, maybe he was. "So, where to next?"

The Doctor nodded back toward the centre. "Need to refuel. Quick pit stop in Cardiff, and we're off again. Wherever you want."

Rose sat up straighter. "Moon landing?"

The Doctor laughed. "But you've already seen it in 1969!"

"Not from the moon!"

He grinned down at her, shaking his head and walking back around the controls. "Of course, you didn't specify which moon," he piped up, winking at her over the console. "Ganymede? Or Io, perhaps? Ariel!" he cried. "Ooh, let's do Ariel, _that_ was a _brilliant_ moon landing."

Rose couldn't stop laughing as they headed for Cardiff. What came after the pit stop? She didn't really care. As long as they did it together.

* * *

…_the next episode is Utopia…_

* * *


	13. Episode 11: Utopia

**UTOPIA**

_I'm so sorry, that this has taken so long. I've had so much on._

_Truth is I needed time to sort through the myriad of ideas I had…and hopefully I've picked the right one._

* * *

"What ever happened to Margaret, I wonder?" Rose mused idly, leaning against the centre console as the Doctor made the last couple of adjustments during the dematerialisation sequence. "Y'know. After we dropped her off on Raxacoricofallapatorius." 

He looked up at her, raising his eyebrows slightly. "You mean Blon Fel-Fotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen?"

Rose huffed a laugh. "Can't believe you remembered all tha'."

"Can't believe you remembered how to pronounce their planet," the Doctor smiled back at her, leaning over the centre console tweak the lever that reminded Rose of a bicycle pump, then hitting a flashing light with a rubber mallet.

"I'm sure she's…fine. She'll be fine," he added quickly, shrugging, tossing the mallet Rose's way. Rose caught it, blinking as she flinched from the sudden action.

"Now," he changed his tone quickly, clapping his hands. "Cardiff. Twenty seconds to refuel, that should just about do it," he dashed past her to his monitor, leaning down with both hands either side.

"Twenty seconds?" Rose turned as he walked past, hooking the mallet back in its place under the console. "Took us twenty-four hours, last time."

"Hmm," the Doctor barely heard her, focusing on the monitor.

Rose smiled to herself, unable to help but reminisce, leaning back against the console. "Remember? You, me, Jack, Mickey, an' lunch at the docks. Simple stuff. And," she added hurriedly, "saving the world, of course. God, that feels like a lifetime ago," she shook her head.

"It _was_ a lifetime ago for some of us," the Doctor stood tall, one eyebrow raised, his focus on the monitor still. "The rift has become a lot more active during that time. Bleeding more energy. Takes less time to skim off what we need."

He finally turned to Rose, his eyebrow still raised in a slightly unimpressed manner, swivelling his monitor away with a stroke of the hand. "Yea-up, that should do it," he quipped, dashing toward the other side of the console, powering the TARDIS up again.

"You're jokin'?" Rose couldn't help but laugh, turning as he hurried around her again. "Can't we…I dunno," she trailed off. What, go out to dinner? Stop off for a coffee? The Doctor's haste had thrown her a little.

"Ariel moon landing, wasn't it?" the Doctor called from the other side.

Rose frowned. "Can't we stop off for a while? I dunno, catch up on the local news? Where'd we land, anyway?" she turned toward the monitor to mask the sudden, awkward feeling.

"Rose, here!" quickly. Too quickly.

Rose faltered, like she'd been slapped. Her eyes flickered upwards, but he wasn't looking at her, he was storming back around the console, almost like he was angry at her.

What was going on? Before she could voice the question, he was there, handing over the sonic screwdriver.

"I need you to open that grate," he pointed to the floor, "and set it to two-oh-four, the fuel isn't properly evaporated yet," a hand on her shoulder, for just a moment, then dropped it.

Rose stared down at the sonic screwdriver. "Right…" muttered, shifting her gaze to the grate. "Wha-?" she began to ask.

The TARDIS suddenly jolted, and Rose and the Doctor were both thrown off balance. Rose toppled over as sparks flew out of the console, showering them.

The Doctor was back on his feet in an instant, hands either side of the monitor again.

"Wha's goin' on?" Rose ducked as more sparks flew.

"We're…we're accelerating," the Doctor sounded confused.

Rose hurried to her feet now, and the monitor. The flashing symbols meant nothing to her, but the rate at which they were flashing was increasing.

"Accelerating where?" Rose called over the whine of the TARDIS.

Rose gripped the sonic screwdriver in one hand, the console with the other as the TARDIS bucked again. The TARDIS throwing sparks, and the Doctor confused? This wasn't good.

"Into the future," his eyes flickered as the readings on the screen continued to change. "The year one billion."

"Tha's not _that_ bad—"

"Five billion," he cut in, shaking his head and putting on his glasses, squinting at the readings. "Five _trillion_. _Fifty_ trillion, what?" he muttered.

Rose bit her bottom lip, looking up at the glowing, pulsing centre console. Where were they going - and _what_ was the TARDIS up to?

"The year _one-hundred_ _trillion_, that's impossible!" he pulled back from the screen, looking to Rose as if she had an answer to the conundrum.

Rose tried a small smile, feeling nervous. He was the Time Lord, what answer could she give?

"Maybe it's jus'…really improbable," she shrugged.

"But we're," his eyes snapped back to the monitor, and he nodded at it. "We're going to the end of the universe."

"Maybe th' fuel we picked up in Cardiff…didn' agree with her?" Rose tried.

His eyes flashed worriedly, his mouth a straight line as he took off his glasses and exhaled sharply.

Rose put a hand on his arm. "It'll be all righ'," she assured, though her mind raced and nerves were on edge. "– We'll jus'…turn around or somethin'," she nodded, trying to be helpful, feeling the need to fill the unsure moment with noise.

The TARDIS came to a shuddering stop. Rose gripped his arm to steady herself as the engines wound down. There was a pregnant pause as the Doctor gave Rose a sideways look.

"Well. We've landed," he said slowly, quietly, and raised his eyebrows.

Rose looked to the door. "What's out there anyway?"

"Dunno," the Doctor frowned honestly, also looking toward the door. "Not even the Time Lords came this far."

She nodded, the thought of the unknown both scaring and exciting her. If the Doctor didn't want to have a look…well, there had to be a good reason, right?

"I s'pose we should go, then," Rose said lightly, stepping back from him.

The Doctor gave her a sideways look, a cheeky smile emerging. "You have_ got _to be joking?"

Rose rolled her eyes, flicking some hair out of the way, laughing as he grinned manically at her, and made a dash for the door. She inwardly let out a sigh of relief.

"Oi, if there's no air out there, you're in trouble!" she called, running after him.

He turned at the entry to the TARDIS, tossing Rose her coat. "What, end of the universe isn't good enough on its own, you have to have air too, do you?"

She caught it and shrugged it on. "Yeah, well, not all of us have nine lives, you just remember that," she pointed a finger at him, grinning.

"I'm not a cat!" he spluttered, then grinned, holding out his elbow and flinging the door open with a flourish.

Rose stepped up beside him, taking his elbow and peering out into the darkness, stuffing the sonic screwdriver into his coat pocket for him. He wouldn't take her out there if there was a problem.

"All righ', c'mon tiger," she smirked and winked at him.

"Cheeky," he muttered under his breath, elbowing her in the ribs as they stepped out into the unknown.

* * *

The end of the universe reminded Rose of a quarry. At midnight. In the middle of frigid winter. 

The Doctor shrugged on his own coat as Rose rubbed her hands together, surveying the scene.

It was all rock, and sand. A few wind-beaten, weary looking shrubs. A body lying on the ground over there. A couple of bits of twisted metal here and—

She froze, in fright, then refocussed. Yeap. A body.

"Somebody's over there!" she rushed forward, confusion filling her as she got closer and told herself how ridiculous it was to think she _recognised_ the body.

The feeling of dread didn't abate. The feeling of recognition got stronger. Long grey coat. Floppy black hair. Broad shoulders. Dazzlingly handsome.

"Doctor!" Rose cried, dropping to her knees beside the body. "Doctor, it's Jack!" she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She looked back at the Doctor briefly, urgently, then turned back to Jack again, unable to tear her eyes from the face she'd wondered if she'd ever see again. She was dimly aware of pain shooting through her knees from landing so hard on them, as she hesitantly reached out her hands to grab Jack's shoulders, leaning over him.

"Jack!" she whispered, shaking him and feeling a couple of warm tears run down her cheeks.

He didn't react, didn't move. He was dead.

"Jack it's me, it's Rose," she said, with a little more desperation.

No, he couldn't be dead. This wasn't right, why would the TARDIS bring them here, to the end of the universe, next to Jack Harkness' dead body? The elation of seeing Jack was sapped out of her to be replaced by horror. She ran a hand down his cheek, wondering if this was real?

A crunch of gravel behind her alerted her to the Doctor's presence. She turned up to him, frowning, her eyes brimming with tears.

"He's," she bit her lip, gulping, trying to blink the tears away. "He's not movin', Doctor."

The Doctor was frowning down at Jack, one eyebrow raised, standing there with his hands in his pockets, doing nothing.

Rose fought the urge to scream at him. "He's _dead_," she stressed, in case he hadn't gotten the picture. "Jack's _dead, _he's—"

There was a gasp, and two, strong hands grabbed the front of Rose's coat.

Rose screamed, her heart pounded in fear, as she was pulled back face-to-face with a heavily breathing, red-faced Captain Jack Harkness.

She steadied herself, staring at him for just a moment, before throwing her arms around his neck.

"You're alive!" she squealed, laughing.

"Either that or I'm in heaven!" Jack laughed in reply, coughing a little, holding Rose close.

"Oh, here we go," a quiet groan from the Doctor.

Rose barely noticed it, pulling back from Jack and just staring at his face. How _much_ she'd missed him. She felt like she was going to explode from happiness.

Jack was grinning at her, cupping her face in both his hands, but he faltered as he noticed the Doctor's groan, flicking a look over Rose's shoulder. His reply was very slightly icy. "What, aren't I allowed to say hello, even to Rose?"

Rose noticed the coldness and hesitantly turned to look back to the Doctor.

He didn't look happy. He looked uncomfortable, angry almost. She questioned him with her eyes. What was the matter with him? She turned her head back, as Jack got to his feet, leaning on her shoulder for support, then taking a step forward on his own.

Rose stood too, and didn't quite know what to do, hanging back. In a moment that she'd always imagined as being a glorious reunion of old friends, if it was ever to occur, she felt very alone all of a sudden.

The two men stared each other down for a moment before;

"Doctor," Jack greeted him at arms length.

"Captain," the Doctor replied quickly, shortly.

Rose burst into tears, ran forward, and hugged them, an arm around each man's neck.

"Hey, hey hey hey," the Doctor's voice had some emotion in it finally, as he ducked to Rose's height, turning her to face him. "It's all right, he's alive," the Doctor nodded over Rose's shoulder.

"No thanks to you," Jack raised his voice. "You abandoned me."

Rose's eyes snapped to the Doctor's. He looked dark and gloomy. "You told me…we couldn' go back," she managed, gasping a little, with an embarrassed hiccup.

"Did I?" the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck.

"And you," Jack put a hand on Rose's shoulder, and she turned her head back.

"I thought he sent you home," Jack said evenly.

"I…came back," she sniffed, trying to control herself, stepping back and wiping her eyes with her sleeve cuffs. She took a deep breath, her mind racing at the thought that the Doctor had lied to her, so long ago, and they really had abandoned Jack. _Why_?

* * *

The Doctor was strolling ahead of Rose and Jack, hands in his pockets, maintaining a distance. Rose didn't feel like she could ask him what had happened, why they'd left Jack, so long ago in two-hundred, one-hundred. It was like he'd drawn a line between Time Lord and Companions, all of a sudden, and asking questions about the past was out of bounds. Still, despite whatever may have occurred in the past, she couldn't possibly fathom why the Doctor didn't seem all that happy to have Jack back now. 

Jack, on the other hand, was talking Rose's ear off. She wondered how he could be mad at the Doctor, yet step straight back into their friendship, when she'd also, technically, abandoned him.

"But I have this, don't I?" he pointed to his wrist-band. "Vortex manipulator."

"Wha', like time vortex?" Rose asked, her eyes flickering uncertainly to the Doctor's back.

"He's not the only one who can travel through time," Jack called ahead.

"Oh, excuse me," the Doctor spun on his heels, scoffing. "That is _not_ time travel. It's like…I've got a sports car, you've got a space-hopper."

Rose tried not to laugh, holding her tongue.

"All right, so I bounced," Jack did laugh, then shrugged, as they continued walking.

He explained, that something had gone wrong with his vortex manipulator, and he'd wound up in 1869, forced to live through the entire 20th century waiting, positioning himself over the rift because he _knew_ the Doctor would come back and refuel.

"Until finally, I get a signal on this," he thumbed over his shoulder, to a large backpack Rose hadn't noticed before, "detecting you, and here we are."

Rose blinked, and stopped walking suddenly. "Cardiff?" the realisation snapped as everything knitted together. "You caught up with us…when we…" she stared at the Doctor's back, daring him to turn around and face her. Anger began to bubble in her chest and she fought to keep it down. "You…that's why you rushed us out of Cardiff?"

The Doctor turned back to her slowly and stared blankly at Rose.

"You weren't going to lose me that easily, not again," Jack announced, almost proud of himself.

She shook her head, for the first time in her life, completely ashamed of the Doctor. "Is that what happens? Do you just get bored of us one day and disappear? Like Jack, and Martha, and – and, Sarah Jane--!" her voice rose.

"No," the Doctor said urgently, in a strained voice, ducking on his knees and then taking a single step back toward them.

"Why didn' you tell me?" Rose fired, closing the gap quickly and stepping up to him. "He was in Cardiff, all this time?" her voice cracked, and she forced the lump in her throat down again, as she pointed to the Captain, behind them.

"Jack was my friend, _your_ friend. An' you _lied_ to me an' tried to leave Jack behind, after _all _he _did_ for--!"

"Enough!" the Doctor yelled, his face now livid. Rose flinched at the force, the anger.

The Doctor shook his head, eyes flicking between Rose and Jack.

"We're at the end of the universe, all right?" he stressed, still just as angry. "Right at the edge of knowledge itself," he looked straight back down at Rose, his voice now quiet. "And you're busy…" he searched for a word, "angst-ing."

Rose swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling stung, and childish, and looked away, around the darkened quarry.

She knew the Doctor didn't dwell on the past. Asking him questions about it was _always_ dangerous. Asking him to explain his past actions was always worse. And here he was, again, refusing to explain what had happened. When would it be her turn, when would he abandon her?

"C'mon," the Doctor said roughly, and held out his hand to Rose.

She looked down at it. Her jaw tightened and she had to suppress the urge to slap his hand away. He was such an _alien_! She forced her head upwards to look him in the eye, steeling herself.

His eyes were bright. She'd not expected that, and the burning anger and betrayal inside her quelled, just slightly. Her scowl softened into a frown.

She tried to push the thoughts from her mind. It didn't add up. She needed answers, and he wouldn't give them, but that didn't mean she could throw away years of history, devotion, companionship, jumping only to the worst conclusions.

A crunch of gravel at her side; Jack stepped up next to her, overlooking the quarry and sighing.

An overwhelming sense of selfishness enveloped Rose; if anyone needed answers, it was Jack.

She took the Doctor's hand, gripping it tightly. His hand was warmer than hers. She looked from their hands, to Jack, almost automatically reaching out her other hand to him in the same movement.

Jack's serious face warmed into a sideways smile, and he took Rose's outstretched hand without a word.

They resumed walking down the path on the dark, alien planet, hands linked, in silence for a moment.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto," Jack cracked in a mock Southern accent.

Rose shook her head, almost laughing, the anger, confusion and sadness inside her being swept back, however unfulfilled and unresolved. Their shoes crunched noisily on the path as the Doctor looked to the sky and let out a chuckle at Jack's ice-breaker.

This made Rose smile. It would be all right. The shock was wearing off, and the outside world was beginning to register again.

_Jack_ was _back_, Rose's heart sang. And not because the Doctor had wanted him back; because Jack had demanded he not be left behind.

* * *

The quarry walls widened to reveal a vast chasm. In the distance, were more cliffs, riddled with protruding rocks and pathways linking cave entrances. 

"Is it a city?" Rose wondered, then realised she'd asked aloud, when the Doctor replied.

"City or a hive," they came to a stop, near the edge of the cliff. "Or a nest. Or a conglomeration," he shrugged. "It was grown. But look, there," he pointed, speaking quietly. "It's like…pathways?"

"Roads?" Rose tried.

The Doctor nodded. "Must have been some sort of life," he breathed out. "Long ago. But everything's dying now," he mused.

Rose felt a wave of overwhelming sadness, and stared at the empty city, the rock walls, hoping to see a flicker of movement, of life.

"All the great civilisations have gone," the Doctor continued. "This isn't just night," nodding to the black sky. "All the stars have burnt up and faded away. Into nothing."

"They must have an atmospheric shell," Jack announced. "We should be frozen to death."

"Well," the Doctor shrugged. "Rose and I, maybe. Not so sure about you, Jack."

"Aren't there any people left anywhere?" Rose blinked, her eyes still on the empty, ancient city.

"I suppose…" the Doctor sighed. "We have to hope, life will find a way."

Jack pointed to their left. "Well, he's not doing too bad."

Rose followed Jack's finger. There was a person! A man, running, down the bottom of the chasm. The warmth of seeing another living being made Rose want to whoop with joy – yes, there was still life here!

The man kept running, looked over his shoulder, then continued running, desperately like his life depended on it.

In fact, it did. He was being chased, Rose noticed. By what looked like a pack of other people, some wielding torches, some weapons. The sounds of the mob's cries filtered up to the platform Jack, the Doctor and Rose were standing on. Rose's smile dropped.

"Is it me, or does that look like a hunt?" the Doctor asked angrily, then dashed toward the man, running for his life, racing down a gradual slope that had been cut into the cliff face.

Both Jack and Rose started running after him, almost instantly.

"Oh, I've missed this!" Jack cried out, almost laughing.

* * *

They had caught up to the man, and then kept running, the path back to the TARDIS unfortunately blocked by more angry looking savages. Jack had raised a gun to the oncoming mass, but the Doctor had stopped him from using it. 

The newcomer had told them hurriedly about a silo, a safe point, and they were running again, this time with direction.

After oddly showing their teeth to the security guards at the silo – which was enclosed by a massive wire-mesh fence – they'd been granted entry into the yard, scrambling to get inside so the gates could be closed again.

Rose stopped and turned back to face their pursuers, now there was a locked gate between them. They looked human. So human, but there was something not quite right.

One of the savages paced, in front of the gate.

"Humans," he grated uncomfortably, as though not used to speaking. He pointed to his face. "I'm human. My face."

One of the security guards pointed a gun through the gap in the gate. "Go back to where you came from. Back!"

"Oh, don't tell him to put his gun down," Jack muttered, gasping to catch his breath.

"He's not my responsibility," the Doctor hissed.

"And I am?" Jack stared at the Doctor incredulously.

"I can see you," the savage doing all the talking pointed from outside. "I hungry."

Rose stayed perfectly still, telling herself that they were safe now, despite the creepy cannibals pacing on the other side of the fence.

After a pause, the savage let out an inhuman cry, and the mob scattered, moving away from the silo.

"Thanks for that," the Doctor let out a breath and stepped up to one of the guards.

"Right, let's get you inside," he patted the Doctor on the shoulder, and started walking for a man-made, cavernous entrance in the rock wall.

The man who had lead them to the silo stepped forward to the guard. "My, my name is," he spoke hurriedly. "Padra. Padra Fed Chefkain. Tell me. Just tell me," he held the guard's shoulders, closing his eyes a moment. "Can you take me to Utopia?"

The guard smiled. "Oh, yes sir. Yes I can."

With that, they were ushered inside.

* * *

Oh, life had most _certainly_ found a way, Rose realised. 

They had been lead into a long, concrete corridor, full of people – families, mostly, by the look of them. Cramped up and crowded in the walkway, possessions piled against the walls.

Padra, once inside, had begun to urgently ask about his family. The Doctor, not quite as urgently, began to ask about the TARDIS.

"Like a box, a big blue box."

"I'm sorry, but my family were heading for the silo, did they get here?"

"I _really_ need it back, it's stuck out there."

"My mother is Kistain Chefkain, my brother's name is Beltone."

Rose hung back with Jack, watching the guards looking between both sides of the conversation. One of them held up his hands.

"Computers are down, but you can check the paperwork," he pointed to Padra. "Creet! Passenger needs help."

A golden-curled child, no older than seven, perhaps, stepped forward holding a clipboard. "Right. What you need?" he said in a heavy Scottish accent. Padra hurried to him.

"A…blue box, you said?" one of the guards asked the Doctor.

"Yes!" the Doctor said hurriedly. "Big. Tall. Wooden. Says Police."

The guard nodded. "We're driving out for the last water collection. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

The guards had left, and the little boy, Creet, had lead them down the corridor, calling for Kistain and Beltone Chefkain.

The path was full of refugees. People were huddled together, everywhere, pawing over meagre possessions. They looked tired, underfed, but there was an overriding vibe of hope buzzing around them.

Padra was eventually reunited with his mother and brother. Rose watched the reunion, vastly aware again that such a reunion with her own mother was never possible, but it only made her feel strangely hollow, rather than uncontrollably weepy. Even at the end of the universe - all she had was the Doctor, and now Jack, again – she turned back to them, searching for words to express this without embarrassing them-

Where had they gone?

"Captain Jack Harkness, and _who _are you?" Jack was shaking hands with a buff looking blonde man.

"Stop it," the Doctor scoffed, at the side of the corridor, peering at a door lock, and the control next to it. Rose walked back to them, trying not to laugh and resisting the urge to ruffle Jack's hair affectionately.

"Give us a hand with this," the Doctor called to Jack, handing Rose the sonic screwdriver and pointing to a door seal. "Half dead-locked, help me rewrite the code."

The Doctor and Jack both leaned over the keypad, typing furiously, Jack looking to a sensor on his watch, as Rose ran the sonic screwdriver over the door, feeling dumb. Was she even doing the right thing, she wondered, mimicking the Doctor's usual sonicing movements?

With a hiss, the door pulled sideways, and the Doctor stepped through – holding onto the sides of the door and nearly dropping into a massive chasm. Jack caught his arm, and pulled him back.

"Whoa, gotcha," Jack steadied the Doctor.

"Thanks," the Doctor muttered, staring out the door with interest.

"How'd you cope without me?" Jack grinned.

Rose hit Jack in the chest with a scoff, and leaned her head out the door.

They were looking at a massive rocket, inside a huge, metal-sealed cavern. Rose looked down, unable to see the base of the rocket. There didn't appear to be an end to it as she looked up, either.

"Oh my god," she hushed in awe.

"They're not refugees, they're passengers," the Doctor marvelled.

"Utopia?" Rose remembered, pointing at the Doctor. "Padra asked if they could take him to Utopia."

"The perfect place," the Doctor shrugged. "A hundred-trillion years, it's the same old dream," he turned back to Jack. "Do you recognise those engines?"

"Nope," Jack nodded to the base. "Whatever it is. It's not rocket science. But it's hot though."

They stepped back, and Jack pressed some buttons on the keypad lock, closing the door.

"Bu'…if this is the end of the universe," Rose looked uncertainly at the Doctor. "Wha's Utopia mean?"

The question remained unanswered as a little old man in a suit showed up beside them, grinning ear-to-ear. He looked between Jack and the Doctor a moment, then put his hand on Jack's shoulder.

"The Doctor?" he asked hopefully.

Jack pointed to the Doctor.

"That's me" the Doctor quipped, rocking on his heels.

"Oh! Good! Good!" the old man grabbed the Doctor by the arm and lead him back down the corridor.

Rose laughed as the Doctor trailed along behind the frantic old man, who continued to proclaim, "Good! Good good good good good!"

"I'm good, apparently!" the Doctor grinned back at Rose as he was lead around the corner.

Jack and Rose laughed and hurried after them.

* * *

They were lead into a laboratory, the old man leading the Doctor straight to a wall that looked like an old oven with a CD rack on it, power cables falling out of it everywhere. 

"Now, this is the gravitismal accelerator. "It's powerless, but it—" he explained.

Rose took a couple more steps through the door, stopped by a welcome.

"Chan, welcome, doe," a blue alien woman bowed her head to Rose and Jack.

Rose smiled. "Hiya. I'm Rose," she held out her hand.

"Chan, Chantho, doe," she took Rose's offered hand meekly and smiled.

"But we can't get it to _harmonise_," the old man's voice rose from across the room.

Rose turned to him and the Doctor. The Doctor had his glasses on, peering at the mechanism in the centre of the room, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack offered Chantho his hand, grinning at the woman, who quite obviously blushed on her blue skin.

"Stop it," the Doctor called across the room, automatically.

"Can't I say hello to anyone?" Jack protested.

"Chan, I do not protest, doe," Chantho fluttered.

"Maybe later blue," Jack winked at Chantho, then moved toward the Doctor.

"So what have we got here?" he offloaded his backpack, then clapped his hands as he walked off to the middle of the room.

Rose stood back with Chantho, watching the pair with this professor-type old mans, feeling out of her depth. She noticed something shining, sparkling, catching her eye in Jack's pack, and stepped towards it.

"And all this feeds into the rocket?" the Doctor asked quickly.

"Yes…" the old Professor said uncertainly. "Except without a stable footprint the thing won't ever achieve escape velocity. If _only_ we could harmonise the five impact patterns, and unify them, well we might yet make it," he turned away from the machinery. "What do you think, Doctor? Any ideas?"

"Well," the Doctor gulped. "Uhm. Basically. Sort of," he looked around. "Not a clue."

"Nothing?" the Professor asked quickly, shaking his head in confusion.

Rose gaped, dimly aware of the conversation around her, peeling back the backpack.

"I'm not from around these parts, I've never seen a system like it. Sorry," the Doctor explained.

"No, no," the old man stuttered, "I'm sorry. My fault, there's been so little help."

"Jack?" Rose called, crouched down by the pack, nodding at it when she had his attention.

Jack moved toward her. "I said I had a Doctor-detector," he picked up the jar, drawing it out of the pack. A hand bubbled away inside it, waving at her.

"Chan, is this a tradition amongst your people, doe?" Chantho asked uncertainly.

Rose's eyes widened, "Not exactly. Jack, that's the _Doctor's_ hand? The one the Sycorax chopped off?"

Jack nodded, shrugging.

Rose gaped, a million questions flooding her; how had he gotten it, was it still alive, why was he carrying it around now? It kind of creeped her out.

The old Professor was looking, somewhat horror-struck, between the hand, and the Doctor, who'd now taken a seat on a couch in the corner. "Um, might I ask," he stuttered. "What species are you?"

The Doctor sat back, exhaling. "Time Lord. Last of. Heard of them?"

The old man, and Chantho, both looked blankly at each other.

"Legend, or anything? Not even a myth?" the Doctor leaned forward again, then shook his head. "Blimey, end of the universe is a bit humbling."

"Chan, it is said that I am the last of my species too, doe."

"Sorry, what was your name?" the Doctor stood.

"My assistant. And good friend, Chantho," the old man ushered the alien girl forward. "A survivor of the Malmooth. This was their planet, Malcassairo, before we took refuge," he explained.

The Doctor nodded. "The city outside, that was yours?"

"Chan, the conglomeration died, doe," she replied, somewhat sadly.

"Conglomeration, that's what I said!" the Doctor pointed to Rose and Jack.

Jack stared at him dryly. "You were supposed to say sorry."

"Oh. Yes," he dusted his hand off, looking abashed. "Sorry."

"Chan, most grateful, doe."

"So what about those things outside," Jack crossed his arms, changing the subject and addressing the old man. "Beasty boys. What are they?"

"Ah, we call them the futurekind," he seemed to come back to reality, turning away from the hand in a jar on the coffee table. "Which is a myth in itself. But uh, it's feared they are what we will become. Unless we reach Utopia," he nodded.

"An'…Utopia is?" Rose prompted.

The old man laughed. "Oh, every human knows of Utopia, where have you been?"

"Oh, you know," Rose waved her hand. "Here an' there."

The old man looked at her shrewdly, and Rose turned away, noticing that the Doctor was trying not to laugh. "What?" she asked him. They wanted to know what Utopia was, right?

She turned back to the old man, who motioned she follow him, then walked back toward the centre of the room.

He lead them to a black screen, with a blue map on it. There was a blinking red light in the top right corner of the monitor. Above the screen were the words, "Gravitational Field Navigation System".

Rose leaned her hands on the console, staring at it, waiting, as the Doctor leaned down next to her, his chin in his hands, glasses back on. He was staring at the red dot.

"The call came from across the stars," the Professor began to explain. "Over and over again. 'Come to Utopia'," he sounded distant for a moment, then pointed at the red dot. "Originating from that point."

The Doctor asked questions, as the old Professor, answered, pensively at some moments, and all science and technical talk the next.

Rose flashed the Doctor a look, amazed at how little he appeared to know of this place. She was so used to him recognising something – anything – eventually on their travels, and grounding them. There was nothing to ground them here.

And the signal, that all these people remained hopeful about, not sure what they'd find, or even if they'd make it there. It was sad; everyone was lost. It occurred to Rose that unless the guards found the TARDIS, they were lost, too.

"Professor?" the Doctor asked, with a slight urgency, snapping Rose out of her own reverie. She observed the Professor, who looked as though he'd waken from a dream, or a flashback.

"Oh, um, right, that's enough talk," the Professor dusted off his waistcoat. "There's work to do, now if you could leave me, thank you."

Rose looked oddly between the Doctor, and Jack. Didn't he want their help a moment ago?

"You all right?" the Doctor asked, turning, frowning, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Yes I'm fine - and busy."

"Except…" the Doctor faltered. "That rocket's not going to fly. Is it?" he said sadly. "This…footprint mechanism…thing. It's not working."

The old Professor paused, closing his eyes. "We'll find a way."

"You're stuck on this planet. And you haven't told them, have you?" the Doctor ducked his head. "That lot out there, they still think they're going to fly."

The old man sat down. "Well it's better to let them live in hope," he held up his hands helplessly.

"Quite right too," the Doctor nodded. And," he took off his coat, handing it to Rose. "I must say, Professor…what was it?"

"Yana," the old man supplied.

"Professor Yana," the Doctor stepped up to one of the metal consoles in the middle of the room, "this new science is well beyond me, but all the same, a boost reversal circuit in any time frame must be…" he nodded back to Rose, as though it was completely logical, "a circuit which reverses the boost, so, I wonder what would happen," he took a cable in his hand, and began to sonic it. "If I did this," he said, between his teeth, pulling a small lever that joined the cables together.

There was a powering up whine, and lights began to flash. For a moment, Rose thought he had blown it up, but Chantho looked ecstatic and ran off toward some controls.

Professor Yana was still standing, mouth wide open in shock, looking at the controls powering up around him.

"Chan, it's working, doe!" Chantho called from across the room.

"But…how did you do that?" Professor Yana was still gaping.

"Oh, we'd been chatting away, I forgot to tell you," the Doctor said with false modesty, raising his eyebrows. "I'm brilliant!"

Rose crossed her arms and laughed at him, Jack by her side. Yes. Yes he was.

* * *

The hard and frantic work _really _began, then. Rose and Chantho were assigned a job that Rose didn't understand, slotting circuit boards into a side panel on the wall. Jack and the Doctor raced about, both in their element. A voice kept issuing over the speakers, that must have been sounding throughout the entire complex. 

"_All passengers prepare for immediate boarding. All passengers prepare for immediate boarding." _

It really was working. Rose grinned at Jack as he handed her another pile of circuit boards.

Chantho certainly knew what she was doing, efficiently placing the circuit boards in the right slots. Rose kept asking questions of her, not wanting to mess up. The blue girl was extremely patient with her.

"Chantho, how long you been with the Professor?" Rose made conversation after a moment of silent labour.

"Chan, 17 years, doe," Chantho smiled fondly.

Rose smiled back, a little sadly. "Long time, then."

Chantho stopped a moment and nodded to the Professor, "Chan, I adore him. I don't think he even notices, doe."

Rose patted Chantho on the shoulder, smiling. "'Course he notices. Didn' you see the way he raved abou' you before to us?"

Chantho looked uncertain. "Chan, I am happy to serve him, doe."

With that, Chantho resumed working, earnestly placing circuit boards. Rose did the same, thinking sadly about Chantho's plight. The Professor had called her his dear friend, said she was a great help. He didn't appear to realise the girl was so devoted to him…at least, not in _that_ way.

She felt very lucky to know the Doctor, all of a sudden, though when she began to think about it further, she couldn't truly define their relationship, either. Would she turn into Chantho; turn around and it had been seventeen years of fun, but ambiguity?

After a while, another different voice came over the speakers.

"_Professor? Tell the Doctor we've found his blue box." _

Things just kept getting better and better. The Doctor whooped for joy as Rose cried, "Yes!"

The TARDIS was delivered a short time later, straight to the laboratory. The Doctor bounced around it, then leaped inside, emerging with some cables.

"Extra power!" he announced, grinning. "Bit of a cheat, but who's counting?" he plugged the cables into a panel. "Jack, you're in charge of the retro-feeds!" he called out, then dashed off again to Professor Yana.

* * *

"_Professor? Professor, you getting me?" _

"I'm gonna see if I can help out the Professor," Rose raised her eyebrows at the Doctor, strolling over to the monitor Professor Yana was staring at. The Doctor hmm'ed some sort of ascent, his mind on his job, doing something to one of the massive glass panels with LEDs all over it. Jack and Chantho were working on another one. Rose honestly had no idea what they were supposed to be doing, and, unlike Chantho, the Doctor wasn't giving her many instructions, enthralled by the technology they were working on.

"I'm here, we're ready," Professor Yana sat at the screen, excitement evident on his face. "Now, all you need to do is connect the couplings. Then we can launch."

Rose looked over his shoulder, as the face of one of the guards, the word "Atillo" beneath him, started to fade out into static.

"Oh, goodness sake," Professor Yana threw his hands up. "It keeps rebooting, all the time," he hit a couple of buttons on a keyboard that looked like they were made of stone in frustration.

"Anythin' I can do?" Rose ducked down, making Yana aware of her presence, smiling. "Not much help to tha' lot," she tried to laugh.

Professor Yana stared up from his seat, then scrambled up. "Yes, if you could. Just," he offered Rose his seat, "press the reboot key, every time the picture goes like that."

"All righ', easy, done," Rose sat, hitting the button Professor Yana had pointed at. "Y'know, my friend Mickey would have _loved_ to get his hands on this here, complete nutter for computers—"

Professor Yana laughed a little as the image of Atillo began to fade back in.

"_Are you still there?"_ his voice came over the speaker at the terminal, a little out of sync with his image.

"Ah! Present, and correct," Professor Yana piped up quickly, a hand on Rose's shoulder as he leaned down to the monitor. "Send your man inside. We'll keep the levels down from here."

The guard, Atillo, said something that sounded like _'copy that'_, amongst the static, and Rose turned back to Professor Yana.

"Wha's he doin'?"

"Oh, um," he looked between Rose and the monitor, then spoke up loudly over his shoulder. "Captain, keep the dials below the red!"

Behind them, Jack made a noise to confirm he'd heard.

"He's underneath the rocket," Yana turned back to Rose, nodding to the screen. "Fix the couplings, and the footprint can work. But, the entire chamber is flooded with stet radiation."

"Ah," Rose said quickly, turning back to the monitor, crossing her arms. Honestly, asking a question of the Professor was like talking to the Doctor in one of his loquacious moods.

"Stet radiation?" the Doctor appeared behind them, a hand on Rose's shoulder, where Yana's hand had previously been. "Never heard of it."

"No, you wouldn't want to," Professor Yana said. "But it's safe for now. We can hold the radiation back from here," he nodded behind him, to whatever Jack was doing.

"Picture's gone again," Rose sat forward, muttering and punching the reboot key. The image of a doorway, Atillo standing nearby watching through a kind of porthole, faded back up.

"It's rising. Naught point two," Professor Yana called back to Jack. "Keep it level!"

"Yes, sir!" Jack called across the room.

Atillo turned back to the camera, doing a thumbs-up signal, and at that instant, all the electronic equipment in the laboratory fluctuated, lights flashing off, then on again.

Rose blinked, turning quickly to see what Jack was doing. Had he done that?

A siren began to wail.

"Chan, we're losing power, doe!"

Suddenly one of the panels on the side of the wall started issuing sparks, and Jack jumped towards it, punching keys furiously.

With a squeeze to her shoulder, the Doctor leaped away, to a similar keypad, the other side of the panel, also tapping away frantically.

Rose hit the reboot button recklessly to try get the picture back.

"The radiation's rising!" the Doctor called from across the room.

"We've lost control!" Jack called, almost at the same time.

Professor Yana hobbled his way to a third panel, near the Doctor and Jack. "The chamber's going to flood!"

"Jack! Override the vents!" the Doctor called urgently.

The picture faded up on the screen, and Rose saw Atillo motioning furiously from the porthole. His voice carried over the speaker a moment later.

"_Get out! Get out of there!" _

Behind her, Rose could hear movement, as Jack yelled, "We can jumpstart the override!"

A sound, quite like a lightening strike, rang through the laboratory, and Rose jumped to her feet, tearing her eyes from the monitor, seeing Jack raising a couple of live cables toward each other.

"Jack, no!" she cried, running toward him.

"Don't, he's going to fry!" the Doctor caught her, holding her back.

Rose winced at the flashes of light that surrounded them for a moment, turning her head away, burying her face into the Doctor's chest so she didn't have to watch Jack being electrocuted.

She heard Jack scream a moment, and wanted to scream as well, in the terror of the sound, clenching her fists together. The Doctor held onto her firmly, not allowing her to run to Jack.

The zapping, and the sound of Jack's screaming finally died down, and the lights in the laboratory turned back on. Rose hesitantly turned around, to Jack, expecting the worst.

Jack was dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes, the cables falling from his hand.

"Jack!" she screamed as he fell, struggling in the Doctor's grip.

He didn't relinquish his hold, and Rose continued to struggle, looking back over her shoulder at him. "Let me go to him!" she cried urgently.

Chantho raced forward, moving one of the cables gingerly aside by the insulation.

"No, no, _leave_ him," the Doctor held her close, speaking very close to her ear, through gritted teeth.

"I'm _not_ going to _leave_ him," Rose struggle with all her might, finally escaping the Doctor's grip and hurrying forward, landing heavily on her knees by Jack's side, again. She tapped Jack's cheek, wishing, urging him to wake up.

"C'mon, Jack, surprise me again!" she cried.

"Just – listen to me," the Doctor was beside her, kneeling. He drew her hand away from Jack's face, and held it firmly. "Leave him alone," he said seriously, then turned back to the Professor.

"Now, strikes me, Professor," he said lightly. "You've got a room which no man can enter without dying. That correct?"

Yana threw up his hands, turning away. "Yes."

"Well," the Doctor turned back, looking down at Jack.

Rose turned back to Jack as well, following the Doctor's gaze.

Jack gasped awake, his hands reaching forward, grabbing for the closest thing to him – Rose's coat. Rose screamed again, grabbing his arms to stop Jack from pulling her over.

The Doctor took off his glasses, and stood. "I think I've got just the man."

Rose stared down at Jack, gaping. "How did you do that? You have nine lives as well? You were dead!" she accused.

Jack shrugged, stumbling to his feet, using Rose for support. "Maybe I still am?"

* * *

The knowledge that Jack couldn't die completely shook Rose up. Since Rose had travelled with the Doctor, she'd always been aware in the back of her mind that he was an alien, but _Jack_, now, he was a human being. So why was he suddenly acting all immortal? 

But there was no time for answers, not at that very moment, as the Doctor helped drag Jack to his feet, then dashed away with him, explaining, while running, that they'd get the rest of the coupling's locked.

They left the laboratory, and Rose stood fully, closing her eyes and rubbing her hands over her face. _What_ was going on, again?

Oh, right. The rocket, trying to take off. She'd better get back to the monitor.

Pressing the reboot key idly, the picture of the room outside the chamber swam into view. Jack was taking his clothes off.

"_Wh-wh-what are you taking your clothes off for?"_ the Doctor asked, it sounded like in complete confusion.

"_I'm going in,"_ Jack nodded to the red room.

"_Well, by the looks of it I'd say that stet radiation doesn't effect clothing, only flesh."_

Rose saw Jack shrug, down to white t-shirt and suspenders.

"_I'll look good though,"_ he hurried to the door, then turned, suddenly. _"How long have you known?" _

After a pause, the Doctor answered. _"Ever since I ran away from you. Good luck."_

With that, Jack opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it. The Doctor moved up to the porthole.

Rose sat back in her seat. Jack couldn't die, right. And the Doctor had known, all along. And in knowing this, had _willingly_ abandoned him.

"_He's busy. Got plenty to do, rebuilding the earth!" _

Rose blinked, huffing a laugh to herself, unable to believe that it had been a lie. They could have gone back for Jack, then and there, and the Doctor had run away, and let her think Jack was safe.

She watched the screen, pressing the reboot key, whenever it went blurry, but the sound stayed on. She wondered if Jack and the Doctor knew she was listening? Sure, they knew she had a link to the room, she wouldn't just leave them to it and not be interested in what they were doing.

"What sort of man is this Captain Jack?" Professor Yana asked, shocked, by Rose's side again. "He should evaporate!"

Rose smiled a little. "He's human. Like you an' me. Bu' he can't die, somehow," Rose raised her eyebrows, leaning forward, chin on her hand. "Travelled through all of time an' space with the Doctor, an' never really saw anythin' that couldn' die."

"Time, and space?" Professor Yana stuttered behind her.

"Yeap," she pressed the reboot key, as the screen went fuzzy.

The Doctor, looking through the porthole, stabilised on screen again.

"_When did you realise?"_ the Doctor was asking Jack.

Jack's voice rang through the speakers, though Rose couldn't see him.

"_Earth. 1892. Got in a fight on Ellis Island. Man shot me through the heart. Then I woke up. Thought it was kinda strange. But then it never stopped,"_ he paused. _"Fell of a cliff, trampled by horses, world war one, world war two, poisoned, starvation, a stray javelin."_

Rose winced.

"_In the end? I got the message. I'm the man who can never die,"_ Jack somewhat spat. _"And all that time you knew."_

"_That's why I left you behind,"_ the Doctor confessed quickly, and Rose leaned forward, listening, determined to understand his reasons, and the truth. _"It's not easy just…just looking at you Jack, coz you're wrong."_

"_Thanks."_

"_You are, I can't help it,"_ the Doctor was rubbing the back of his neck, Rose could see on the monitor. _"I'm a Time Lord, it's instinct. It's in my guts."_

Rose shook her head at the screen, wondering, yet again, why he hadn't told her any of this.

"_You're a fixed point in time and space, you're a fact. That's never meant to happen,"_ the Doctor continued, and Rose knew, then, he didn't realise she was listening. _"Even the TARDIS reacted against you, tried to shake you off. Flew all the way to the end of the universe just to get rid of you." _

"_So what you're saying is you're uh, prejudiced?"_ Jack's voice came over the speakers, as a locking sound 'thunked' and Professor Yana, behind her, said something about the third coupling being locked.

Rose nodded, distractedly waving the Professor away, entranced by the monitor, their conversation.

"_Last thing I remember,"_ Jack spoke, _"back when I was mortal. I was facing three Daleks. Death by extermination. Then I came back to life. What happened?"_

"_Rose." _

The Doctor said her name, and she startled. She leaned forward, to talk into the microphone. Did they need her for something? Before she could say 'yes?', Jack cut in.

"_You'd sent her back home."_

"_She came back,"_ the Doctor continued. _"Opened the heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the time vortex itself."_

Rose froze. She'd done _what_?

She'd never been able to remember those moments on Satellite Five; it was like a perpetual blank in her memories, consisting only of a singing sound. The Doctor had insisted that he'd sung a song and the Dalek's had fled; that had been right before he had regenerated into the man she knew today.

"_What does that mean exactly?"_ Jack asked, and Rose forced herself to pay attention.

The Doctor paused. _"No one's ever meant to have that power,"_ he started sensibly, reasonably. _"If a Time Lord did that, he'd become a God, a vengeful god."_

"_But she's human. Everything she does is just so human,"_ he spoke fondly. _"She bought you back to life. But she couldn't control it, she bought you back forever."_

Rose covered her mouth, closing her eyes, half of her wanting to beg the Doctor to stop talking. Why couldn't she remember it properly?

"_That's something I suppose. The final act of the time war was life." _The Doctor mused.

"_Could she change me back?"_

Rose opened her eyes, staring at her hands. Could she? She didn't even know what she'd done in the first place!

"_I took the power out of her,"_ the Doctor said quietly. _"It would have killed her. Burnt her up, completely. Killed me, for that matter, but I've got regeneration to fall back on." _

Rose pressed the reboot button, just once, and turned the screen, and the sound, off. Oh, earlier, when they had landed, she would have given anything for the truth. But overhearing the exactness of what had happened to Jack…learning that _she _had been responsible for the Doctor regenerating…she'd killed him. She'd killed him, and she'd bought Jack back to life – _forever_.

"Chan, what has happened, doe?" Chantho leaned down to her.

"Nothin'," Rose startled, rising from the seat, moving away. "I'm jus'," she paced a little, running her hands through her hair, stopping when she noticed the Professor.

His reaction was a welcome distraction. He was crying, silently, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Chantho was there before Rose could react, though.

"Chan, Professor, what is it, doe?"

The Professor looked so confused. "This…_time travel_. They say, there was time travel, back in the old days. I never believed it…but what would I know?" he shrugged, laughing at himself, looking up to Rose.

Rose took a step toward him in worry.

"Stupid old man," Yana cursed himself. "Never could keep time. Always late, always lost," he smiled ironically at Rose, fumbling his waistcoat pocket. "Even this thing," he extracted a silver fob watch. "Never worked," he huffed.

Rose stared down as he pulled a fob watch, not really seeing it. Something at the back of her mind screamed that she should have recognised it.

"And you, my dear," the Professor put a hand on her shoulder, gripping it. "We all heard him. You absorbed time itself, and lived," he sounded amazed, almost laughing.

Rose shook her head. "I don' remember any of it," she huffed a laugh. "I mus' be losing my mind," she blinked.

"Here," the Professor offered his fob watch to her. "Perhaps it will be of more luck to you, than it was to me, when it comes to remembering who we are."

Rose stared at the watch, turning it in her hands. "Tha's amazin'," she sniffed to herself, drawing the chain that hung around her neck out of her shirt and coat. "I've got one, jus' like this," she held it up, so Yana could inspect it. "'s the Doctor's, really," she shrugged. "He…asked me to keep it for him, too," she said carefully, frowning as she turned both watches, face up, into her palm.

They were exactly alike. Not just in shape, or material – the Gallifreyan symbols all matched up, too. Was this the same watch, somehow?

The Professor peered at the Doctor's silver fob watch, in passing interest, then raised a frail, shaky hand to Rose's wrist. Chantho surged forward, ducking around the Professor's side, to gape at the watches in Rose's hands.

"My goodness!" he half chuckled, half gasped, as he poked the Doctor's watch, then his own. "They're identical!" he stuttered. "These patterns," he traced his fingers over the Gallifreyan symbols etched into the front face of his watch. "Extraordinary!"

Rose closed her hands around the watches, smiling nervously. "Now I have a pair, wha' were th' chances of that?" she tried lightly.

Professor Yana's eyes paused on her for a moment, then he waved his hand, laughing. "They're probably both broken, of course! Now, the couplings, there are more important things--"

Chantho stepped forward, her innocent eyes wide and sparkling. "Chan, But Professor, it _is_ exactly like your watch, doe!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Chan, what does this mean, doe?"

Rose wanted to throw something at her, but instead took a subconscious backward step in the direction of the TARDIS. What did this mean? How could the two watches be the same?

The only explanation – one that forced its way into Rose's mind, and let her think of no other - was that he, the Professor, was a Time Lord, or had known a Time Lord. The former being more likely, explaining the reason he had not noticed his watch, and was so easily distracted from it - the perception filter was still working on him. She'd kept the Doctor's watch safe for months, out of sight, out of mind, by not only hiding it, but dismissing any references made to it. It had been just as easy to de-focus him, until Chantho had piped up about it again.

The Professor's eyes were a little tired and tears were brimming, as his head haltingly rose to stop Rose in her tracks. "I'm, I'm sure there is a logical explanation. Perhaps if I could compare the two more…more closely," he blinked, speaking with some effort.

There was, of course, no perception filter on the Doctor's watch, any more. The similarities between the two watches, plus the ability to recall one of them, was obviously turning the cogs in the Professor's mind.

But the Doctor had told her that all the Time Lords were dead. That he knew this, 'up here', he'd assured her, tapping his temple. Could he have missed detecting another Time Lord, because he'd turned himself into a human?

"I don't think now's the time, Professor," she nodded to the monitor, which had fuzzed out again, and not been rebooted. The Doctor and Jack's lingering conversation could barely be heard, from this side of the room.

Her resolve hardened a little. Would the Doctor care what had happened? Hadn't their finding Jack shown her that he didn't dwell on individual past? Perhaps it was a good thing, to always look toward the future.

Rose bit her bottom lip, trying to figure it out - but what could she do, really? The more she tried to hide the watch, the more obvious a deal she was making out of it.

Chantho stepped forward. "Chan, please, help us, doe," she smiled. "Chan, the Professor has not known what the watch means, since he was abandoned with it as a child, doe."

This didn't feel right. Rose looked at the Professor's watch in her hand, feeling a warmth emanating from it. Subtle, but alive. "You…were abandoned with it? When you were a baby?" she squinted. Why would anyone do that to _any_ child?

The Professor looked tired, and shrugged helplessly.

She stepped forward, holding out her hand, hoping she was doing the right thing. The Doctor would be happy, right? To know that he wasn't the last Time Lord.

"Why don't you open it?"

The Professor stared down at it. "Why would I? It's broken."

Rose shrugged, laughing a little. "Let me help."

"It's stuck," he shook his head.

Rose tucked the Doctor's watch back into her pocket, and lay the Professor's watch back into his open palm. He looked down at it oddly, as though seeing it truly for the first time, flicked the tiny clasp at the front of it, and –

- a golden light, stronger than any force Rose had ever felt, or at least felt and _remembered_, spilled in all directions, racing out of the watch. She was knocked off her feet, and covered her eyes, as everything spiralled and screamed, a heavy sound of drums beating at her temples.

* * *

Rose woke, rubbing her head, blinking as a heavy haze started to clear, just as stars burst in front of her eyes and her temples buzzed in mind-shattering pain. 

She winced, trying not to make a noise, clenching her fists against the ground. Ground? No, grating. She was on a metal grating. A very _familiar _metal grating, one she'd fallen onto many times before.

A mute horror began to engulf Rose as she remembered what had happened before she'd been knocked out. The Professor had opened the watch. His Time Lord soul had rushed out. And there wasn't singing, or happiness; there was a sound of drums, and screaming.

But surely, the Doctor would have sensed, 'up there', the presence of another Time Lord. He would have come running, running back to them.

She opened her eyes, again, raising her head slightly, peering though the mess of hair over her eyes – yes, she was inside the TARDIS. She had figured that out, not only from the familiar grating, but from the warm hum of engines, slowly powering up.

So, they were leaving. The Doctor must have come back, fixed the Professor, and said their goodbyes. Good – the end of the universe, and all its alarming revelations and truths – had been freaking her out--

An upside-down face peered down into hers; elvish, short hair, wide eyes, cheeky smile. Not the Doctor. Not the Professor, either.

Rose gaped a little, struggling to find words. "Who…who are-?"

"Welcome back," he dragged her to her feet, cutting her off, then dashing around the console and hitting a big, round button that suddenly flashed a whitish-yellow colour.

"Ha-ha!" the stranger bellowed, looking to the roof of the TARDIS. Rose backed away, slowly, clutching onto one of the coral ribs for support, half-hiding herself behind it. She had obviously missed something – had the Doctor regenerated again?

"Now then, Doctor!" the man called then paused, grinning across at Rose.

Cold fear gripped at Rose. Obviously, not the Doctor. So, who then – the old Professor? Had _he_ regenerated for some reason?

"Oh, a new voice. Hello!" he held his throat, grinning. "Hello," in a high voice. "Hello," he cleared his throat, then laughed, putting his hands on his hips, and speaking to the roof of the TARDIS again.

"Anyway. Why don't we stop and have a nice little _chat_ while I tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me," he shook his head across the room at Rose, but kept his voice raised. "I _don't_ think so."

"_I'm asking you really, properly, just stop, give her back to me, just think!" _

Rose's heart shuddered. It was the Doctor's voice. From outside the TARDIS. What was he doing _outside_ the TARDIS? His voice jolted her into action.

"Doctor!" she screamed, running for the door.

"_Rose!" _

The newcomer caught her as she raced past, grabbing Rose around the arms, holding her securely in place.

"_Rose, it'll be all right, just get him to open the door!"_ he screamed.

But he sounded so far away! She struggled to break free, finally kicking the new Professor in the knee and breaking out of his grip – only for a moment. He flailed out, grabbing Rose's arm in a whip-like motion, throwing her back. She hit her head on the centre console as she fell, hard, back onto the floor.

She tried to scramble up, then glared up as he pushed her back, again.

"No, no, _no_," he pointed a finger, looking down at her. "Stay!" he ordered, in the tone usually reserved for small children and naughty dogs.

"_Yeah, righ'_", Rose thought to herself, as the insane man who'd hijacked the TARDIS raced around the console. She tried to get up and he was there again, pushing buttons in the console, and pushing her back onto the floor. How was he able to be so fast, she wondered infuriatingly?

"Wha' the _hell_ are you doin'?" Rose screamed at him, holding her head as the stars began to clear. She'd hit her head even harder on the console that time.

As the man waggled his eyebrows down at her, the centre console began to throw sparks. In his moment of distraction, as his eyes wrenched to the controls, Rose made another break for it.

"Oh no you don't!" the man called out.

Rose ran for the door, and suddenly, something heavy smacked into her back, sending her flying down on her hands again. She screamed out in pain, fire shooting through the side of her back where something had hit her. She saw the rubber mallet the Doctor usually hung under the centre console, in the corner of her eyes, as she struggled to get up again.

"End of the universe, just you, and magic Jack!" the insane man at the console laughed, in a loud voice that told Rose he was speaking to the Doctor again, and not her. He laughed, sighing at his own glee, then he was there, next to her, crouching down and ruffling her hair. "Rosie and I are going to have so much _fun_, aren't we?"

The TARDIS dematerialisation sequence continued. Rose's eyes filled with tears; she was being taken away from him, _why_? What did this insane Professor want?

"Say bye-bye, Rosie," he called out.

Rose slowly, stubbornly shook her head, turning to look toward the door. She could see the Doctor, just, through the windows, banging against the doors, screaming something but she couldn't hear him over the dematerialisation sequence.

Then they were in the vortex, and the man at Rose's side dashed off again, leaving her by herself at the entry, unable to escape now they were on their way back into the past…

* * *

_…To be continued in the Sound of Drums…_

* * *


	14. Episode 12: The Sound of Drums

THE SOUND OF DRUMS

_I have a confession to make. I didn't like the last two episodes of season three very much…everything just seemed a little **too** convenient.  
And so you're going to see something a little different in my Alternate Universe's 'Sound of Drums' and 'Last of the Time Lords' -- my somewhat sorry attempt to 'fix things'.  
_

_Thank you, everyone, for the reviews of the last chapter! You guys rock.  
Spamurai, you've made me blush, quite a bit, at your glorious and helpful review.  
Oh! And Charli - ;) wrong Queen!_

_Enough from me, I hope you enjoy the second last chapter. _

* * *

Rose struggled to her feet, holding onto the TARDIS for support, glaring through her hair at the man dancing around the centre console like it was his own. 

"Turn us around!" she commanded. "You can't just _steal _the TARDIS!"

"Well," the man considered, grinning up at the centre, his face highlighted in green glow. "It's not really his, either, now is it? So we can call it karma," he scrunched his nose at her, as though it was their little secret.

Rose shook her head, frustrated and confused, and felt a dull ache where she'd smacked it against the centre console. "Then jus'…take _me_ back," she risked a couple of steps forward, imploringly. "I'm no use to you, he's all I've—!"

"All you've got?" the man finished, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, boo-hoo-hoo," he made a fake crying motion with his fists, then flashed a winning smile, like he expected her to laugh.

Rose didn't find it funny, and bit her bottom lip.

His smile dropped, and he took a couple of slow, deliberate steps toward her, looking down with what Rose mistook, for just a moment, as sympathy. His voice was soft. "_Au contraire_, Rosie, you're all _**he**_ had You, and this funny blue box," he giggled at her and she clenched her eyes shut, trying to block his glee.

"And now you're mine," he whispered, close to her ear and she flinched, her eyes shooting back open in fear at the intimacy of his tone.

He laughed. "Do you have any _idea _what that's going to do to him?" he wandered away, to resume fiddling with the controls.

_He's mad. _Rose stepped backward, and felt the TARDIS doors with her hands. She couldn't go any further. "What about Chantho, what happened to tha' nice old Professor back at--?"

"Don't!" he commanded, pointing across the room, straight at her, his head turning in a slow, eerie movement. His voice was low, grating. "Don't let me ever hear you say that name again," he glared at her. "I am the Master."

The nerves, the fear, and the sheer hopelessness of the moment was overwhelming Rose; with this final proclamation, she snapped – and burst out laughing.

"_Master_? Master of wha', petty thieves?" Rose fired, trying to fight the insane desire to keep laughing.

The Master raised his eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. "Just…the Master," he nodded.

"Just…the Master," Rose waved her hands, mocking his voice.

The anger in his face should have made her back down, but she was feeling rather reckless, all of a sudden. Where could she go from here? She couldn't run from the TARDIS – not if she ever wanted to see the Doctor again. This madman couldn't be reasoned with, seemed to have no sense of sympathy for the Doctor, and the only thing he was responding to was anger.

He started to charge for her and she could almost see steam coming out of his ears.

"What?" Rose screamed at him, picking up the rubber mallet he'd thrown at her earlier to stop her escaping, bearing it like an axe, convincing herself this was a desperate enough situation to use it if she had to. "Gonna throw more stuff at me?"

He came to a stop, a few arms lengths from her, clenching his fists.

"C'mon," Rose felt like spitting at him, but her voice was low, daring, as she searched for words, her blood pulsing. "You…you'd better finish me off now," she nodded, uncertainly at first. Then her resolve strengthened.

"Because the _moment_ your back is turned, I'm takin' the TARDIS an' going back for the Doctor an' Jack!" she yelled.

She had gone back for the Doctor, by herself, before. She'd absorb the Heart of the TARDIS again, if she had to, she told herself boldly, fully aware now that it had nearly killed her last time, and had forced the Doctor into regenerating. She'd do anything – _anything_ - to get back to him, to get his TARDIS back to him.

An image of him, standing there, screaming at the TARDIS as it disappeared from the laboratory formed in her mind, and she pushed it away. She would not let he and Jack, the only two people left in her world that she cared about, be stranded, forever. She would fix this, or die trying.

Rose breathed heavily, waiting for his reaction.

The Master's glowering look transformed slowly, into one of amusement.

"Oh, I can see why he liked you. Yeap."

With that, he turned away, moving back to the controls, spinning the monitor – the _Doctor's monitor_ – around to view it, cheeky grin back in place.

Rose gripped the mallet in her fists, subconsciously lowering it, shaken by his quickly altering moods; one minute furious, the next, elated. She crumpled to the floor, wincing as the welt on her back sent fire shooting through her body, leaning against the doors, her mind searching, desperately, for a way to turn him around.

Solution eluded her, but a singular realisation arrived; it was _all_ her fault. She'd known what the watch meant, and she'd let him open it.

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees, drawing them up, not wanting the Master to see her cry as tears spilled forward. How could she have been so _stupid_? Of course, not all Time Lords were going to be as good as the Doctor. The Professor's humility…his yearning to let the last humans in the universe live their lives in hope, had tricked her. She had been _certain _that he was a good man, that nothing bad could come, from letting him realise who he really was.

There was a kick to her trainer, and Rose startled, then looked up through tear-streaked hair.

"What?" she shouted petulantly.

The Master was glaring down at her. He pulled her roughly to her feet, his fist closing around both jacket and hair, without a word. The TARDIS was quiet; they must have landed.

"What?!" Rose repeated, trying to escape him, flailing to grab hold of the TARDIS, her hands grasping, but reaching only empty air.

He pushed her into the centre console, holding her face to the monitor so her nose was nearly touching it.

His voice was full of rage, when he finally spoke. "What did you do?" he turned away, pushing her head as he did, his hands falling onto his hips in disgust.

Rose pulled back a little from the monitor, moving her head from side to side and wiping her eyes as a tiny glimmer of hope sparked. She'd done nothing. But if he thought she had…

She stared at the monitor. Oh, none of it made sense, the TARDIS had never translated the on-screen Gallifreyan for her and the old girl either would or could not translate it for her now. Still, best let him think she had some control here.

She stood back, crossed her arms, and leaned against the console, facing the Master, giving him what she hoped was a smug look.

"Told you you'd never get away with it," she bluffed, shakiness in her voice.

He threw up his hands in disbelief. "Why here, why now?" he asked the roof, then stepped back toward Rose.

"Change it back," he demanded.

Rose pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. "Think again, sunshine, not if I was the last person in the universe!"

The Master pointed a finger at her again, shaking it, his eyes glinting, as though she'd helped him work it out anyway. "Oh, ho-ho-ho," he shook his head a little. "You're good, Rosie. Great, even," he tested words, considering to himself. "Wicked?" he tasted the word, then poked out his tongue, like it tasted wrong. "Uh, no, sound like a moron. Fantastic?" he mused.

Rose slapped him, before she knew what she was doing. The Master recovered quickly, his eyebrows both raised, but finally, he was speechless.

"Don't you _ever_ say that again," Rose grated, feeling a lump rising in her throat as she said it, and stormed off, planting herself on her usual seat, glaring up at him as the springs underneath her bounced, and came to rest.

He blinked, then huffed. "You know, I was going to just kill you but I think I'll keep you around," he said idly.

Rose's blood turned to ice.

"You're _much_ too fun just to get rid of."

* * *

_Many months later…_

* * *

Rose surveyed the cell one of the black-clad guards led her to, her expression dull, bored almost. 

To the guard, she was nobody. The Master, now known as Harold Saxon to everyone else, had said _"Shift Rosie to U31"_, and just like that, she'd been shifted. Apparently to U31, which was a cell, just like all her other cells. It didn't matter; he'd given an order, and it had been carried out. People listened to Harold Saxon; listened, and acted, without questioning him.

She was still on the Valiant, she could tell, by the perpetual background humming of the engines, almost like a fluttering heartbeat, and the brief, cloudy patch of skyscape she caught in passing from one cell to another.

With a final shove, to push her further into the room, the guard closed the doors and with a 'bleep-bleep', deadlocked them.

How long had passed, since she and the TARDIS had been stolen away from the year one-hundred trillion? _Months_. Perhaps, even, over a year. Had to be over a year, more like a year and a half. She wasn't sure of the exact amount of time, anymore.

She pulled the pen she'd swiped from the guard's pocket out of her sleeve, and turned it in her fingertips, frowning at it. "UNIT" was printed on the side, in bold, black letters. Whoever they were. That didn't help her at all.

The cell was almost exactly the same as the last one; the walls a dull, metallic colour, and soundproofed, she supposed, since nobody had ever responded to her screams in the beginning, and Rose was now used to living in almost complete silence. The cell door, on the other hand, was Perspex, and Rose glared at it, remembering all the times the Master had stood at it, gloating, grinning manically, for some perverse reason keeping her up to date with the goings-on, back down on Earth.

"_You won't believe it, Rosie! You missed one hell of a battle down there at the wharf, Daleks, Cybermen everywhere, then, just like magic – they all started being sucked toward Torchwood tower —"_

Rose had cried and cried when he'd said that to her, and he'd laughed. She'd been stuck on the Valiant for a few months by then, thinking she was trapped somewhere in the future; the Master's revelation had alerted Rose to the fact that they were in her recent past. Down on Earth, her mother had just been sucked into Hell – again. The Doctor was down there – unaware of the Master's existence, or her imprisonment.

The Master had continued visiting her, with news.

"_Goodness me, I blew up a star today! Ha! Well, a Racnoss ship, but I could have sworn I saw you, the Doctor and some daft-looking bride for a moment--?" _

"_Wow! Fantastic day, great news – Harriet Jones is gracing us with her presence! She's actually here, the ex-Prime Minister, in the cell next to yours. Did you see them bring her in? Hasn't got a clue what's going on, silly old bint--!" _

"_I'm getting married, Rosie – sorry pet, try not to be too devastated, it would have never worked between us – I'm a Time Lord, and you're a stray dog, a pairing that's fundamentally frowned upon—"_

"_Well! Didn't you two leave in a hurry today! Almost like you're avoiding the vote. You know, it's quite pathetic now, how the Doctor hasn't even realised what's really going on – or perhaps he does, and doesn't care?" _

Rose scowled, telling herself, again, that she had to stop being so angry. He wanted her to be angry. She was letting him win, by showing anger, fear, sadness, as he gloated at her cell door.

Escape, by her own means, was unfathomable up here. No more TARDIS key, no more superphone.

Rose had no idea what had become of the TARDIS herself either, trapped in the airship, with no one down on Earth to miss her or worry about her, but she suspected the Master was keeping the old girl close by. Though it was most likely that the TARDIS was no longer operational. Rose knew _something_ had gone wrong in the vortex; something that the Master had thought she'd done herself, when he'd first stolen them away. She couldn't travel like she used to; otherwise, why would the Master chose _her_ time, to settle down in?

TARDIS or no TARDIS, there _had _to be a way out of this. She could _not_ live out the rest of her days in a cell, she told herself with determination.

As though the slightest whiff of resolve had alerted him, the Master appeared at her door, pressing a button on the side to talk to her.

"_Great news, Rosie!"_ he smiled, sighing and blinking in a relaxed manner. _"I won. I'm Prime Minister of Great Britain!"_ he chuckled, as though the joke was on them.

Rose rolled her eyes, looking away from him and focussing on a spot on the wall, but he continued.

"_And to celebrate, I have an outing planned for you. You know,"_ he scrunched his nose, _"since I couldn't have done it without you, really."_

Rose stayed silent, not willing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"_The Doctor and Jack will be back by now,"_ he raised his eyebrows. _"So I thought we'd send them a little message." _

Rose's eye twitched, but she forced her expression to stay neutral. He was such a sadistic bastard. After all this time – all he had achieved – he still had his grudge against the Doctor, still wanted to hurt him.

She forced the tears of frustration, and yet relief, back. The Doctor and Jack had made it, somehow, he'd said. Was he telling the truth, or just trying to raise her hopes? She tried to push the questions from her mind, and again, focus on the immediate future.

Rose was dressed in a demure black skirt, light-blue shirt, black shoes, and white stockings, the uniform completed with a sharp black jacket. Her hair was washed and brushed, and some makeup was applied by a member of staff on the Valiant. Nobody talked to her, and perhaps they'd been ordered not to. Rose tried to engage the makeup lady in conversation, but the woman had remained silent, her eyes glazed over, tapping an annoying, four-timed beat on her leg the whole time. Like she was hypnotised.

A plane had them in London within the hour. The Master had sat with his wife, Lucy, for almost all of the journey, coming back once to lean over the seat in front of Rose's and tell her that if she uttered a squeak, the Toclafane would have her for dinner.

Rose began to feel nervous, and she knew that he meant it. Harriet Jones had been given to the Toclafane; the Master had gloated to Rose about it afterwards. They were this strange, floating ball-like alien race, that seemed to dote on the Master's every wish and whim. Maybe he had created them? After all, someone had once created the Daleks, too.

So was her time, her imprisonment, nearly at an end, she wondered? Had he only kept her around this long, to send his message to the Doctor once he'd figured out how to get back to them?

Rose closed her eyes. There was no point in worrying about it. She needed to keep her mind blank, and her focus sharp, and look out for an opportunity to get away. Any opportunity; this was the best chance she'd ever been given.

She was handed a posh-looking black handbag when they landed, then ushered, with the Master and Lucy Saxon, into 10 Downing Street, surrounded by bodyguards. They were lead to and fro, through hoards of people rushing around, apparently working, none of them appearing to notice the skinny, blank-looking blonde girl that was part of Harold Saxon's crowd.

They ended up in a frantic sort of press conference. Camera flashes blinded Rose and she blinked, shielding her eyes as they walked down some stairs, holding the railing for support.

The Master and Lucy smiled at one another as the cameras continued to flash. He leaned over, kissed his wife in a movement that nearly made Rose vomit, and then stepped forward.

"This country, has been sick," he announced to the eager reporters confidently, his voice carrying none of the insanity Rose was used to.

Oh, he was good. He had them all wrapped around his little finger.

"This country needs healing. This country needs medicine. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that what this country really needs, right now," he uttered. "Is a Doctor."

_What?_

With a winning smile at the camera, they were ushered forward past the news crews, one of the Master's black-clad guards grabbing Rose's arm and leading her through the throng, in an apparent gesture of aid. Rose tried not to tug her arm away, as more cameras flashed around them, aware that the guard was only there to stop her running.

She was bait, she realised. The Master wanted the Doctor to come after him, right now. That's why she was still alive; that's why she was here, now.

The questions and camera flashes faded, and they were out of the reporters reach, quite suddenly. The guard pushed Rose forward a little, letting go of her arm in the process. Rose tried not to trip over the shoes, not used to walking so quickly, anymore, particularly in heels.

"Finance report, sir," an envelope was passed to the Master, two strides ahead of Rose.

"Military protocols, sir," another.

"E.C. Directives, sir."

"Annual budget, sir."

The pathway of people eager to greet their new P.M continued to pass documents his way, as they kept walking. Rose hung back, but the guard behind her prodded her discretely to keep moving.

They stopped at a doorway, and the Master turned back to Lucy, documents under his arm.

"I'm so proud of you Harry," Lucy breathed.

Rose fought the urge to throw up again as he kissed her, averting her eyes with a scowl.

"Sir! If you don't mind me asking, I'm sorry but it's all a bit new," an eager voice gushed.

Rose couldn't believe what she was seeing. Martha's sister, the one she'd met at Lazarus' party, was standing there in a black pinstripe suit, in front of the PM. Tish, that was her name. Rose shuffled forward, trying to catch her attention.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" Tish asked the Master.

"Ah yes," the Master blinked. "What was it, um—"

"Tish. Latisha Jones," she cut in quickly, laughing and blushing.

"Tish," the Master nodded. "Well then, Tish," he made a move to enter the doorway behind him, then looked Tish up and down. "You just stand there, and look gorgeous."

Rose gaped, watching Tish blush even more profusely, and Lucy laugh, at the Master's antics.

Then he entered the cabinet room, and Lucy Saxon turned back to Tish. "I think it's high time for a cup of tea," she smiled to the girl kindly, nodding her forward to lead the way.

Tish had noticed Rose, now the Prime Minister was gone. She gave her a sideways look and Rose mentally cried out.

"I'm sorry, don't I know you from somewhere?" Tish asked.

"Oh, I doubt it," Lucy Saxon waved her hand dismissively at Rose, and stepped forward, between Rose and Tish. "An aid from Archangel, flew in from Norway this morning, in fact. Now, tea…?"

Martha's sister seemed to shake herself awake, then nodded. "Of course, Ma'am, right this way."

And she was gone. Tish was gone, without giving her a second look. Rose's shoulders slumped, as she felt the guard take a hold of her arm again, and usher her forward.

"Where'm I goin' now?" she whispered to the guard.

The guard ignored her.

* * *

Rose was stopped, a few paces out the back door, the heavy hand falling from her shoulder, to her elbow. They were in a courtyard; a solid brick wall to their right with the other three sides of the yard fenced by the many-storied building they'd just come out of. An iron gate was spread open to the far right. A black car was idling at the end of the path, its door open, the driver reading a newspaper and sipping coffee. 

Rose looked back up at the black-clad guard that had been leading her around, for any signs of instruction. He stood there, just behind Rose, betraying nothing, his grip still firm.

"Wha' happens now?" Rose prompted.

The guard ignored her, again, his head roving from side to side.

Rose rolled her eyes and turned her head away, wondering if she could risk kicking him and making a run for it. There was only three of them in the courtyard; Rose, the guard and the driver. Surely this was her best opportunity to make a break for it.

The sound of static made Rose jump and thoughts of rebellion fled her mind, as the guard put his free hand to his ear, listening to his headset. Rose heard talking, through the static, but couldn't make out any words.

"Copy that," the guard nodded, and his grip tightened, even more so, on Rose's elbow. He hurriedly pushed her forward, toward the open back door of the car.

Rose stared upward as she was pushed, her mind sluggishly realising that they weren't as alone as she had first thought, catching glimpses of movement at several of the windows.

"Rose!"

A desperate scream came from the far right, and her head whipped around, her neck twinging at the sudden movement. Her heart leaped into her mouth as she was pushed, head-first, into the car and the door was slammed shut, then locked with a 'clunk' sound.

As soon as the door had closed, the driver sped off, spinning the rear wheels and spraying gravel in haste.

Rose grabbed onto the back of the seat and pulled herself upright, desperate to confirm what she _thought_ she had seen, as the car turned sharply to the right. She fell back into the door, her handbag falling onto the floor.

Gripping the seatbelt like a safety rope, Rose pulled herself up again, and tried to get a good look out the back window. The tint was very dark. She dug her nails into the back of the seat for support, and her worst fears were realised.

The Doctor and Jack were in the middle of the courtyard. Clearly, they had seen her during the Master's press conference, and come for her. But they weren't running for the car she was in any more, as it rounded the last corner of the courtyard and made for the open iron gate. No, they had been stopped.

Rose bashed at the back window of the car, screaming for the driver to stop and let her out, that this was all a mistake, but he must have also been ordered to ignore her.

She watched in horror, her hand fumbling for the door handles, a window winder, anything, to get out of the car. Nothing worked; she was locked in.

Jack and the Doctor were surrounded by black-clad people with guns aimed straight at them. Jack was holding his own gun ahead of him, swivelling back and forth. The Doctor was standing tall, his hands raised. Rose could see his mouth moving, his frantic pointing, toward her, toward the car that was speeding out the gate.

Then she couldn't see them any more; all she could see was wall. The car turned and Rose strained, trying to see what was happening, but it was no good.

Rose cried as the car sped away onto the proper road, bashing at the windows, then taking off her heel and trying to smash the window with it instead.

They'd come for her, even though they were both smart enough to know that it was a trap.

Knowing that the Doctor and Jack had really made it back to Earth, and they were trying to get to her, pushed Rose's desperation into overdrive. She had to get away, she had to help them. She kicked at the window with all her might as the car took another sharp corner.

With the force of the corner behind her, her shoe had left a spider-like pattern on one of the windows and Rose sighed in relief, her resolve swelling at this small success.

Then something in the backseat began to beep madly, and Rose was drawn away from her need to exit the car, distracted, wondering if it was a lost mobile.

The posh black handbag she'd been given was the only thing in the backseat, besides her, and as it turned out, was the source of the beeping. Rose's eyes widened in realisation. It was all over, if she didn't get herself, or the bag, out of this car. She grabbed the handbag in one hand and bashed at the window again with her shoe in the other, in the middle of her previous mark.

It was not going to end like this, with fire and pain. Tears welled in her eyes as she put every little bit of energy she had into her task.

With a smash, the window shattered, and Rose flung the handbag from the car, as the beeping stopped and an all-mighty resonating _BOOM_ pushed the car across the other side of the road, into oncoming traffic.

Rose wrapped the seatbelt around her arm and wrist and gripped onto it for dear life, feeling the tough material cut through her as the forward and sideways motion of the car pulled her toward the windscreen. For a moment, she felt weightless.

She closed her eyes as an ear-shattering metal-on-metal twisting sound tore through the air and glass fragments cut into her face and arms.

It was over, so quickly, and Rose jumped into action, ignoring the burning pain in her wrists, the stinging pain on her face and arms. Her legs, thankfully, were still functioning, almost with a mind of their own, and forced her out of the window she'd previously smashed, which was now aimed at the sky. The car had turned onto its side. With a couple of wobbly stumbles past worried onlookers, she found her feet and ran before anyone could stop her.

Into an alleyway. She paused; turned, to review the scene. The road was a mess; the bomb that the Master had so cleverly planted on her had done its job; there was a crater in the side of the street, and no trace of the handbag. The black car she'd been in had been pushed into an oncoming Golf, and both cars now lay on their sides, on the opposite sidewalk. A bus had smashed into the rear of the Golf, and the carnage continued beyond the bus.

Rose turned away and kept running, a part of her knowing that the driver of her car was dead. Perhaps even the poor driver of the Golf that had been caught in the middle.

After running away from the sounds of sirens and destruction, Rose finally stopped running to get her bearings. Where was she? Just off the Strand?

She leaned on an alleyway wall, breathing heavily, shaking the shattered glass out of her hair, the tiny pieces making tinkling sounds on the weathered cobbles. She unstrapped her other shoe, flexing her feet, avoiding the broken glass fragments.

_What now? _She had to find somewhere safe, and then figure out how to get to the Doctor and Jack. She nodded to herself, gulping for air, uncaring that she had no idea how to find them; that wasn't the point.

Amongst the sounds of London, the rushing home after a day's work, the cars queuing up and people craning out their windows, wondering at the accident ahead, Rose was sure she could hear running, and she jumped into action again, realising that someone was chasing her.

She dashed onto the Strand and through the stopped cars, too afraid to hesitate, even for a moment to look over her shoulder.

"Rose!"

The desperation in the call of her name was so not what she had expected, that she stopped, in the middle of the street, amongst the idling and unmoving cars, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her.

It couldn't be him. She'd seen them surrounded by guards, right before she'd been driven away. She turned.

It _was_ them. Running toward her was Jack and the Doctor, both weaving through traffic. People were honking their horns and a couple of Londoners yelled out their windows at the approaching men, Jack with his gun held high, flicking glances over his shoulder back down the road, and the Doctor running, straight for Rose, ignoring the obstacles – leaping onto bonnets and straight over the tops of cars, travelling the shortest path possible to her.

"Doctor?" a near whisper.

Rose nearly collapsed where she stood, so relieved she was that they had gotten away. She ran back towards them, grinning madly.

The Doctor was the faster runner, and grabbed Rose's hand as he dashed past her, pulling her off balance for a moment as she stumbled to switch directions again.

He caught her around the waist and steadied her, before grabbing a hold of her hand and running at full pelt again in a quick, fluid movement.

"C'mon, we're not out of this yet!" he piped up hurriedly as he pulled her along.

Rose ignored the stabbing pain in her wrist, and the burning in her feet, turning back over her shoulder to look for signs of pursuit, but could see nothing of the sort.

All she could see was Jack, a few strides behind her, running, dodging traffic, also flicking glances over his shoulder.

Rose ran, gripping the Doctor's hand, wondering if this was real. The adrenalin surged through her in the panic, pushing her forward, in time with the fluttering of her heart triggered by the Doctor's firm grip on her hand. She told herself that she was, finally, no longer alone.

They ran.

* * *

It was raining heavily. 

Jack slid open the heavy door to an abandoned warehouse, and the Doctor pushed through, Rose's hand still firmly in his.

"Jack, we need some food, and a computer or anything that'll give us information," the Doctor commanded. "And some bandages, she's hurt."

"I'm on it," Jack nodded, shifting his weight to push the door closed again after them.

"Be careful," Rose blinked, a lump rising in her throat at the thought of him leaving, for anything.

Jack gave her a winning grin, winking at her. "Hey. What're they going to do to me?"

The door was slid shut, and the Doctor turned to Rose quickly, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, enveloping her completely.

Rose squeaked at his suddenness. She felt a kiss to the top of her head. As she moved to hug him back, he pulled away, a hand on each shoulder as he ducked down to look her in the eye.

His eyes were bright, and there were red spots on his cheeks.

"You're so thin, and…and your hair…" he spoke in a quiet, choked voice, that she'd never heard him use before. One of his hands fingered a lock by her eye, and tucked it behind her ear, trailing the full length. Yes, she supposed it had grown quite a bit in length…

She stared up at him, an odd, flipping feeling in Rose's stomach, and she wondered, absurdly, if she was in trouble. All she really wanted was another hug.

He ducked his head toward her, then halted, a few tears spilling over. He cleared his throat, and stood a little taller, wiping his eyes with both his hands. "How long has it been?" he asked quietly, a desperation, almost a groan, in his voice.

Rose shrugged. "A little while," she guessed, trying to laugh it off, shaking her head. "I dunno."

The Doctor looked away, running a hand through his hair.

"How…?" Rose began, as the Doctor's eyes snapped back to her. She bit her bottom lip.

He shook his head evasively. "It doesn't matter," he rubbed his neck, then reached forward. "Here," he took her wrist in one hand delicately, kneeling and buzzing the sonic screwdriver onto it with the other hand.

Rose's heart swelled at the sight of the Doctor, with the sonic screwdriver buzzing bluely; a sight she had thought she would never see again, except in her dreams. She leaned back against the wall, wiping away tears with her free, still good, hand, breathing shakily.

"You can mend bones with it, now?" she asked, trying to mask the tears.

There was a pause in the buzzing, and Rose felt the Doctor's eyes looking up to her from his kneeling position. She couldn't bare to look down and let him see her crying.

Eventually, the buzzing resumed, and he mumbled, "No, I just need the light."

"'s broken?" Rose sniffed.

The Doctor shook his head, and stood, tucking the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket. "Bruised, and cut in a few places, here," his fingers traced over a laceration running down Rose's forearm. "But you'll live," he smiled down at her.

Rose forced a smile, still trying to laugh it off despite the couple of tears running down her cheeks. "Not getting' rid of me tha' easily!"

The Doctor's smile widened, and it was so genuine, so beautiful. "Wouldn't dream of it. C'mere, you!"

Rose didn't need to be asked twice, and wrapped her arms around his neck leaning on tip-toe to hug him as closely as possible. His arms enclosed her waist, and he spun her around a little.

She knew he'd want to know what had happened still. She hadn't answered anything for him. But right at this moment, she didn't want to think about the past, or about how they were going to stop the Master.

She closed her eyes, feeling safe, feeling loved, breathing in the smell of the Doctor's coat, his hair and neck.

This was home.

* * *

Rose startled awake, shocked by the cold breeze on her face, and sat up quickly, her eyes groggily exploding with stars masking everything. She put a hand to her head, and felt grime. It was dark, she noticed, wearily, and something was flickering, perhaps firelight, by her side. 

"Hey, hey hey hey!" the Doctor was kneeling in front of her, a hand pushing the hair out of her face and coming to rest at the back of her neck. "It's all right Rose, you're safe."

She froze, then blinked, as the stars cleared. That had been real? She had really, honestly, gotten away?

She reached out a hand, slowly, and touched the Doctor's cheek, briefly, just to check he wouldn't disappear cruelly like mist after a dream.

He smiled up at her as her hand made contact, his eyes sparkling. "Hello!"

Rose breathed shakily, a grin winding its way through the initial fear and confusion, warming her whole body. "Hello," she laughed, her prodding hand cupping his cheek now.

"Where are we?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from his to survey the warehouse.

"Safe," the Doctor blinked slowly. "For the moment."

Another pair of legs came into Rose's field of vision, and a mass of crumpled paper was put under her nose.

Rose pulled back a little, as a glorious smell filled her nostrils and she looked up to a cheekily smiling Jack.

"Got chips," he shook the paper, his voice sing-song.

Rose laughed and took the parcel, tearing into it like a hungry dog.

"Wait, wait, wait," the Doctor laughed, trying to take the chips away, holding up a bandage. "Your arm."

"It can wait!" Rose pulled away, defending the chips. "You know how long it's been since I had a good chip?" Rose muttered, biting into the potato and closing her eyes to savour the taste. It was heaven.

When she opened her eyes, Jack was sitting down opposite her on an old chair, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped and expectant look in place. The Doctor was standing, arms crossed, oddly blank. He had his glasses on.

"Wha'?" Rose's elation fled as a chip dropped from her hand back into the paper.

"How long?" Jack asked in a serious voice.

Rose's shoulders slumped and she looked away, popping another chip into her mouth. What did it matter? "Can't we jus' forget abou' it?" she muttered, her mouth full.

She heard the Doctor's intake of breath, and saw Jack fidgeting in the corner of her eye.

"I'm sorry, Rose, if we're going to have any chance of stopping the Master, we need to know _everything_—" Jack started, urgency in his voice.

The Doctor cut in quietly. "It's all right. Here," he crouched in front of her, took the chips and put them down on a box behind him that was doubling as a dinner table.

Rose met his gaze, her own begging, pleading that he not make her talk about it; she just wanted to move on, now she was away. The Doctor said nothing, as his hands rested lightly, on both of her temples, his thumbs lightly cupping her jaw, and he drew her face a little closer to his.

"Are you _sure_ that's a good idea, Doctor?" Jack called from his seat.

"Just relax," he whispered to Rose, then closed his eyes.

Rose was confused, for a moment, and then felt a wary, gentle pressure in her mind. She gasped, as she realised he was seeking entry to her memories.

"That's…" she shook her head slightly. "That's not fair."

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want me to know," the Doctor assured her, his eyes still shut. "Just close it off."

The gentle prodding to her mind had transformed into a warm sort of mental blanket, and Rose couldn't help but close her eyes as well, as it covered her and reassured her that she was safe. She tried to stay blank. This really was the easiest way, she realised; she didn't have to say a word, as much as the thought of the Doctor in her mind scared her.

She felt and heard, and occasionally saw, glimpses of the past year and a half, flashes of emotions and images, jumbled together like a movie trailer. It was odd knowing that these memories were her own - she was re-witnessing them with the detachment of an observer.

Another layer of emotions filtered through the trailer, like an answer, a response, all at once sad, regretful, and powerfully angry; swelling in timbre as Rose's memories unfolded. Rose tried to calm them, somewhat embarrassed at being able to feel the Doctor's mind, as though she was invading him; quite similar to the feeling she got from reading John Smith's Journal of Impossible Things, when they'd been stuck in 1913;

"_Sometimes I think how magical life would be if stories like this were true," I sighed. _

_Rose closed the book, handing it back to me. She looked sad, wistful, almost lost, and I fought the urge to reach out and un-crease her brow. _

"_If only," she whispered. _

"_Just a dream," I spoke quietly, shrugging on the surface, despite the palpable similarities between the young lady in front of me, and the companion from my wonderful dreams…indeed, if only… _

Rose gasped, opening her eyes, as she realised had fallen so easily into _his_ memories, and she flushed. All at once, she was back inside herself, and the flood of memories the Doctor was invoking cascaded over her, gushing past so quickly, she had little time to absorb them, and felt the memories as though they belonged to someone else. His eyes were still closed, and Rose wondered if he had noticed her accidental invasion.

In a moment, he opened his eyes, hands falling slowly from her temples, and Rose stared at him, breathing lightly, waiting for his reaction. His eyes were full of tears, again, which scared Rose even more.

He stood, one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair, as he took a couple of worried paces away from Rose.

"Doctor, what is it?" Jack called, an edge of frustration in his voice.

The Doctor turned back to Rose, not Jack, and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so sorry," he shook his head.

"'s not your fault," Rose shrugged.

The Doctor shook his head again and resumed pacing. "I should have realised, but he hid himself, he hid _you_," he paced, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand a couple of times. "But there _must_ have been signs, and we were always so busy, rushing from one place to the next—"

"What?" Jack demanded, cutting the Doctor off.

The Doctor stopped pacing, staring at Jack, as though seeing him for the first time. Flicked a glance at Rose, that she couldn't interpret, then asked him, "Jack, how long do you estimate it took us from the moment the TARDIS disappeared, to get back and see Rose at the press conference?"

Jack shrugged, "Half an hour? Most of that was you, sonicing this into submission," he pointed to his wrist-band.

It felt like a stone had been dropped into her belly, and Rose huffed. Half an hour. She'd only been missing for half an hour, to them. And she'd done eighteen months, alone.

"It's been a little longer for Rose--," the Doctor started delicately.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," Jack cut in sarcastically. "And I'm sorry," he looked to Rose, his eyes serious. "But we can't change it," he turned back to the Doctor.

"Now, Doctor, get to the point, we've got a lot of work ahead of us."

Rose stayed quiet, reaching forward and grabbing her chips again, putting her feet up on her chair and the Doctor sat by Jack, explaining what he'd learned from Rose's mind. Rose tried to stay out of it, finishing her chips, pulling the laptop in front of Jack toward her and trying to find something useful to do. There were a number of web browsers open, with articles on Harold Saxon, news reports and video footage. She read the news reports idly, as something to take her attention off the Doctor's explanation to Jack.

She was in the middle of an article about Harold Saxon's university days, which she knew were a complete load of rubbish, when a new window opened, almost filling the entire screen; black, with the white T of the Torchwood Institute blazing up at her.

She crossed her brows at it, an anger swelling inside her. They were the last thing she needed. "What, Torchwood hackin' us now?" she pressed a couple of keys but the window didn't go away, prompting her for authorisation to continue.

Jack jumped out of his seat, hurrying to her, turning the laptop toward him, then pressing some buttons on his wrist-band. The Doctor moved to his other side, his arms crossed again as he looked down over his glasses at the screen.

Rose watched Jack, as his eyes flicked from the screen, back to his wrist-band, and he typed something on the keypad.

The Doctor spoke to Jack flatly. "You work for Torchwood." More a statement, than a question.

"Wha'?" Rose muttered, shaking her head at the Doctor, but he was glaring down at Jack, waiting for a response.

Jack didn't speak for a moment. "I swear to you," he looked between them. "It's different. It's changed. There's only half a dozen of us--"

"Everything Torchwood did, and you're part of it!" the Doctor cut him off in a growling voice.

Rose sat back again, shaking her head at Jack now. "Bu'…we stopped them. How can you be part of somethin' that doesn't exist?"

"The old regime was destroyed at Canary Wharf, I rebuilt it, I changed it," he said quickly, "and when I did that, I did it in your honour," his head flicked between the two of them.

The Doctor didn't say a word. He just stared at Jack. Rose rubbed her forehead, trying to focus on what Jack had said, and not her past encounters with Torchwood, and what they'd done, all those they'd been responsible for destroying.

Jack pressed another key on the laptop and Rose heard a new, recorded voice of a woman speaking. The Doctor shifted his position, to look at the screen, but she stayed where she was, falling back into the chair. Her head ached. So much information, so many bombs dropped, and something told her, almost laughing at her, that it wasn't over yet.

"_If I haven't returned to my desk by twenty-two hundred, this file will be emailed to Torchwood, which means if you're watching this, then I'm…" _the woman paused.

Rose stood during the pause, moving to Jack's side, remembering what they were supposed to be doing.

Jack couldn't change his past, as much as she couldn't alter what had happened in hers. And, it could be worse. The woman, speaking on screen, had recorded a message for Jack, for Torchwood, knowing that she might not make it, but wanting to make a difference.

Jack put a hand on her shoulder and she sat beside him, frowning at the screen as the woman continued.

She was blonde, perhaps in her late forties, sitting in an office full of books and papers and clutter.

"_Anyway, the Saxon files are attached," _the woman resumed. _"But take a look at the Archangel documents. That's when it all started. When Harry Saxon became minister in charge of launching the Archangel network."_

Archangel…why was that word familiar? Hadn't Lucy said she was someone from Archangel?

"What's the Archangel network?" the Doctor asked quickly as the recording ended.

"It's a mobile phone network," Jack muttered, opening one of the attachments and pointing at the screen, "It's gone worldwide, they've got fifteen satellites in orbit, even the other networks, they're all carried by Archangel," Jack handed his own mobile back to the Doctor, who took it and started buzzing it immediately with his sonic screwdriver.

"It's in the phones, ohh, I said he was a hypnotist," the Doctor grated, pressing a couple of buttons. "Wait…"

_Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep, bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep…_

The dial tone sounded.

"There it is. That rhythm," he mused. "It's everywhere. Ticking away in the subconscious."

"A code?" Jack looked up from the files on the screen.

The Doctor shook his head, "Layers of code, vote Saxon, believe in me…" he muttered.

Rose raised her eyebrows. "All that from four beeps?"

Jack shrugged. "Could be how he hid himself from you all this time?"

"Yes!" the Doctor pointed at Jack. "Because yes, I _should_ have sensed there was another Time Lord on Earth, I should have known way back. The signal cancelled him out."

Rose stared at him, unimpressed. "Phone dial tone cancelled him out?" she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Something so simple, so subtle," the Doctor handed Jack back his phone, crossing his arms. "That wave was intended for me, as much as it was the rest of the world," he nodded to the phone in Jack's hand, but spoke to Rose.

"Any way we can stop it?" Jack tore his eyes from his phone.

"Not from down here," the Doctor quipped, dusting his hands off.

"Wha' about from the Valiant?" Rose spoke up, as much as she didn't want to return to her prison. "He sort of ran things from up there."

The Doctor pursed his lips and his eyes betrayed a concerned, stubborn look that Rose interpreted as him getting ready to tell her she was right, but that she was staying behind.

She didn't let him say it. "You got a teleport on ol' super-watch, Jack?" she nodded to him, chewing her thumbnail.

Jack flicked a look to his wrist-band. "We can't just teleport to the Valiant, it's full of UNIT personnel. We need a plan of attack."

"All righ', you said tha' dial tone cancelled the Master out, righ'? So rewrite it, to hide us," she waved her hand at him, shrugging.

"It's not that simple a code, and it would take longer than we have—" Jack started.

"It's four beeps, how hard can it be--!" Rose butted in, and was also cut off.

"I'm not taking you back to the Valiant," the Doctor said calmly, standing in front of her, hands in his pockets.

Her hand fell from her mouth, into her lap. "Why not?"

"You know why," he blinked patiently.

"No, I don't," she stood, staring at him, frustration bubbling to the surface as he looked away. "You'd better explain it to me."

"Cut it out," Jack called over his shoulder to them. "Doctor I don't think leaving Rose on her own _anywhere_ will be an option, we're safer if we're together. Now," he pointed to his mobile on the table, next to the laptop and amongst the chip packets. "Maybe we could re-write the code if we had the time, but it wouldn't do us any good, we have nothing to transmit it with, and this is just a receiver."

Rose was still staring up at the Doctor, a challenge in her eyes, but he said nothing, sighing, putting his arm around her shoulders and turning them back to focus on Jack.

"What we could _really_ do with is a perception filter," Jack looked over his shoulder at the two of them, "but we don't have one without the TARDIS, and God knows where he's hidden her."

Rose noticed the Doctor's whole body stiffen at this, and she felt a wave of regret and sorrow for the reminder. She wrapped her arm back around his waist to try and reassure him, despite any level of frustration she was feeling.

"Perception filter won't work, not on him," the Doctor spoke hurriedly, clearing his throat. "His mind will get past it."

"So Jack an' I go," Rose started, but was cut off immediately.

"Trust me, it won't work," the Doctor grated.

"He'll be expecting to see all of us," Jack shrugged in apologetic explanation to Rose.

"Torchwood, then," Rose spat, closing her eyes, unable to believe she was voicing them as an option. "You said you have people—?"

"He already thought of that," Jack sat back, crossing his arms. "Tried calling them, before we caught up with you. Somebody sent them on a wild goose chase to Tibet."

"Three guesses who _somebody _is," Rose muttered.

"Exactly. No, we need somebody who has a reason to be there," Jack mused. "Someone who won't seem out of place…"

The answer came to Rose and she gasped, her chest fluttering as all the pieces of puzzle slid together.

"Martha," Rose turned to the Doctor, excited, trying to get all of the words out at once. "Martha's sister works for him. I saw her, you know," she nodded, "the ambitious one we met at Lazarus' party - Martha could go up there an' shut it down. The signal," she spluttered.

The Doctor's eyes were wide, and a grin broke out when Rose stopped babbling. "Rose Tyler, you're a genius!" he tightened his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze.

"That meant something to you?" Jack laughed to the Doctor. Rose pushed him in the shoulder, and Jack's laughter died down. "So, I gather Martha is one of the good guys. Who is she exactly?"

* * *

It was very late at night, or early in the morning, and the streets were shrouded in darkness, deserted for the most part. The threesome stuck to the shadows, hurrying to Martha Jones' apartment; Jack had found her address, using his 'connections', which Rose interpreted as 'hacking, verging on stalking'. Though both Rose and the Doctor had been to Martha's apartment once before, they had materialised the TARDIS inside, when the Doctor had dropped her off. 

Rose's feet kept moving as though they had a mind of their own, a weariness seeping into her like the cold and darkness, despite the Doctor's firm grip on her hand again. Would Martha help them? Of course she would, Rose told herself. Her sister was in danger, working where she was. Martha would act on that, if nothing else.

After an hour or so, Jack leading the way, they stepped up to a front door, and Jack knocked sharply. They had arrived at a set of terrace houses, set slightly back from the road. The sky was a very dark shade of grey.

When Rose turned back to the door, she faced a bleary-eyed, gaping Martha Jones, in trackpants and a singlet top; obviously, they'd woken her.

Jack flipped an official looking piece of psychic paper at her and started talking, but Rose pushed past him, flinging her arms around Martha's neck.

"It's so good to see you," Rose managed.

"What the hell has happened to you?" Martha pulled Rose back, her eyes roving over Rose's sorry state, widening, then flashing to the Doctor. Rose was suddenly very aware of the torn clothes, lack of shoes, the blood, and the soot on her body, all marks of the earlier car accident. They just hadn't gotten around to cleaning her up, in the warehouse.

"You call yourself a Doctor?" Martha accused the Doctor. "Look at her!"

"Yee-ah, I don't think the doorway's a good place for a chat," the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, before pushing past Martha and Rose into the entry. Jack stepped in behind them and closed the door.

"Captain Jack Harkness, and you must be Martha Jones?" Jack grinned at her, holding out his hand.

"Stop it," Rose and the Doctor said in unison.

Jack held up his hands. "What, you're ganging up on me now?"

Martha gave Jack a somewhat amused look, then turned back to Rose, inspecting a bump on her forehead. "C'mon, let's get you fixed up," she led Rose upstairs.

* * *

A shower and fresh set of clothes later, and Rose felt like a new person. Martha sat her down on her bed, and started dabbing something acrid on the laceration running down her arm. 

Jack held a cup of tea under Martha's nose. "Here."

"Thanks, just put it on the table there," she got out a bandage from her med-kit.

Jack stayed where he was, raising an eyebrow to Rose. "We need to keep on task--," he started.

"And it can wait, thank you," Martha huffed up at him.

Rose bit her bottom lip, trying not to laugh from Martha telling Jack off. Jack looked somewhat lost, putting two mugs of tea down on the table Martha had pointed to, then walking back to the Doctor, who was sitting by the window, at the laptop, fiddling with something Rose couldn't see, and sonicing occasionally.

Martha shook her head at Rose, smiling up at her. "I _know_ they didn't tell me the whole truth, while you were in the shower, something about another Time Lord. What's really going on?" she asked, deftly wrapping the bandage around Rose's bruised wrist.

Rose watched the criss-crossing bandage, her amusement sobering, wondering why the Doctor and Jack had left it to her to explain.

"Martha, it's your sister, Tish. She's workin' for the new PM, Saxon, righ'?"

Martha's bandage-winding faltered, as she slowly drew her eyes from Rose's wrist, to her face. "Right. Is…she in trouble?"

Rose shook her head helplessly. "Everyone's in trouble, Saxon's mental. An' we need your help."

Rose explained, in as few words as possible, that Saxon was the other Time Lord; where she, Jack and the Doctor had been, and how they'd been separated, and why they couldn't get near the Valiant now. Martha blankly continued wrapping Rose's arm and wrist, then checked her other grazes and bruises, while Rose talked.

"You're all set," Martha pulled her med-kit toward her, zipping it shut.

"Martha?"

Martha shot Rose a scared look, as Jack returned to their side.

"You won't be expected," he started explaining to her. "But you shouldn't seem out of place, either, if you're with Tish. Everyone will think you're with her. Get onto the Valiant and shut down the signal," he explained. "Then the world will see Harold Saxon for who he really is."

"Easy as that, hey?" she shook her head. "An' then what?" Martha stood, putting her med-kit back into an alcove by her bookshelf, not looking at Jack. "Hijack a plane and fly everyone to safety, escaping the wrath of an angry Time Lord?" she tried to laugh it off, an edgy waver in her voice.

Jack handed her his wrist-band, as though she hadn't had her outburst, and continued as the Doctor stepped up beside him.

"Once you've shut the signal down, press this," he indicated a button on the wrist-band. "Teleport. It'll bring you straight back to us."

Martha stared at the wristband sadly, then sighed.

"And…" the Doctor started, also holding out his hand.

Martha turned up to look at the Doctor, and Rose could see a mixture of annoyance and fear in her eyes. Clearly, Rose thought, Martha hadn't gotten over the Doctor dropping her off after the one trip, that felt like so long ago. She reminded herself it had been a matter of days, weeks perhaps, for Martha.

A key was dangling from a length of string, clutched in the Doctor's hand. "You'll have this. It's not much--"

"A key?" Martha asked blankly, taking it. "How's a _key_ going to help?"

The Doctor looked uncomfortable, and flicked Rose a quick look. "It's my TARDIS key. Has a low level perception filter on it, that should hide you from them, once we're on the Valiant."

"Hold on, once _we're_ on the Valiant?" Jack turned to him incredulously, before Rose had realised what the Doctor had said. "The Master will be expecting you, we've discussed this already—"

"I am not sending her in there alone," the Doctor pointed to Martha, no room for compromise in his voice, though he spoke calmly. "He's my responsibility," the Doctor nodded to Jack. "If Martha can get me in, I can save him."

"What?!" Jack screamed.

"He's the last of my kind, I have to try!"

Rose shook her head, feeling light-headed. Her voice wavered; "You're goin' up there?"

The Doctor nodded sharply, not meeting Rose's gaze.

Rose stood and stepped in front of him, a hand on his chin, turning him back to look at her. "To talk to him? You'll die," she huffed, her hand faltering, then falling, to his arm. "He'll _kill_ you."

The Doctor stared down at her, his mouth a straight line, his eyes slightly red. "I can regenerate," he said through clenched teeth.

"And I can't die," Jack grated. "If anyone should be going with Martha, it's me."

"_No_ Jack," the Doctor ducked down, wincing as though he really didn't want to have this conversation. "He's not your responsibility."

"But you're _ours_," Rose stressed desperately.

"So, what, you go up there and responsibly die on us?" Jack fired over the top of Rose's plea.

"Hiya guys," Martha ducked in next to Rose, waving up at the Doctor sarcastically to get his attention. "Yeah, sorry," she scrunched up her nose. "What do you need me for again, if you're going up there yourself?"

The Doctor cleared his throat, looking annoyed. "You need to shut down the signal being transmitted through the Archangel satellites, or at least find out where he's transmitting them from. I'll deal with the Master. C'mon, you can call your sister on the way."

He turned and Rose gaped, searching for words. What could she say to stop him? She didn't know the details of the Master and the Doctor's relationship, just that the Master…well, wanted to hurt the Doctor. The months of being tormented by the Master pushed and pulled at her, and a vivid picture formed in her mind; the Doctor, in her old cell; sad, alone, being laughed at by a crazy man behind a glass door. Forever.

She surged forward. "You're not facin' him alone, I won't let you," she pleaded, saying the first thing that came to mind, putting a hand on the Doctor's arm to stop him walking out.

He stared at her hand, for a moment, then met her gaze, swallowing.

"If I don't come back with Martha," he started. "I need you and Jack to keep fighting," he looked up to Jack. "Save the world. Don't worry about me," he whispered, shaking his head, and moved to leave again.

Rose tugged on his arm, pulling him back stubbornly. "No. This is _not _goodbye, stop actin' like its goodbye." She looked to Jack and Martha for support, but they were staying quiet.

Rose turned back to him, pushing the desperation down, whispering. "Please. I want to help."

The Doctor removed her hand from his arm, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb for a moment. He replied simply, "Then trust me."

Then he walked out the door, and Rose's hands fell to her side.

Martha gave Rose and Jack a wide-eyed, overwhelmed expression, then stepped after the Doctor into the entry, calling "I'll see you both soon, promise."

"Good luck," Jack called out hurriedly, his voice gravely.

Rose closed her eyes as she heard the door shut quietly, and she felt Jack move around the room, heard him sit down on the bed and sigh. Tears wavered in her eyes, tears of anger and frustration; she had _just gotten him back_. And he was going again.

And Martha. Why had she mentioned Martha? It should have been _her_, Rose, his companion, not Martha, going up there with him. But he was always doing this; always trying to get her to stay behind, trying to protect her and at the same time, making her feel useless. He'd done it on Satellite Five, and he'd done it at Canary Wharf. Every time he'd tried it, she'd fought back. It was the choices she'd made that had brought Jack back to life, forever, and ended the Time War, stopped the Doctor from killing himself to rid the world of Daleks. It was her decision, to never leave him, that had pulled her mother into Hell.

_No_. Her eyes snapped open. The danger, the deaths, the many months of imprisonment, the stupid decisions and the crying; it was _worth _it. She couldn't let him go up there to face the Master alone.

"Wait!" she cried, running out into the entry and down the stairs. She flung open the front door, scouring the shadowed, early-morning street.

But they were gone.

* * *

When she returned upstairs, Rose fell into Jack's arms, and he held her tightly. A part of Rose wanted to break down in tears, but her year and a half's conditioning to suppress her anger and sadness, and stay alert to opportunities, had her feeling almost dull as she sighed into Jack's hug. 

"So," Jack sighed as well, resting his chin on the top of Rose's head, "do you think Martha can shut the signal down?"

Rose could hear the hurt in his voice. Jack was obviously just as affected as she was by the Doctor's order that they stay behind. Rose was reprimanding herself now, for not acting quickly enough, and letting him leave.

She left Jack's question unanswered, and hugged him tighter.

"As soon as Martha's back, I'm takin' your teleporter, Jack, an' goin' after him," she vowed.

He pulled back a little. "Despite his order that we stay behind?"

Rose shrugged. "If I listened to all his orders, you'd be dead."

Jack pulled back fully now, holding her shoulders, squaring her with a hard look. "Rose, you go up there, _you'll _die. The Master only kept you alive to use as bait; do you think he'll let you hang around once he has the Doctor?"

Rose closed her eyes, pushing away the small part of her mind that told her Jack spoke the truth.

"I don't _care_, I'm not leavin' him up there on his own."

* * *

And at precisely 8:02 A.M., GMT, a rift in time and space tore open the skies and a Toclafane plague rained down on the Earth. 

The world saw the Master order one tenth of the population be wiped out. They saw world leaders disintegrated. They saw a tall, skinny man in a brown suit, standing at the back of the room, then suddenly, hurrying forward, as all hell broke loose.

Then the live feed to the television stations was cut. The sound of panic was replaced by the sound of drums, the world over; four-beats, hammering away gleefully, for a couple of seconds. Then that sound was cut off as well, and for a moment, there was silence.

Nobody saw what really happened on the Valiant that morning.

* * *

…_to be concluded in The Last of the Time Lords…_

* * *


	15. Episode 13: Last of the Time Lords

THE LAST OF THE TIME LORDS

* * *

_Here we are...the final episode. Difficult, because of the very alternate path I wanted to take with it, and again because the story is from Rose's perspective and so much of Last of the Time Lords was focussed on the Doctor and Master's stories. _

_But it seems fitting, after (mostly) rigidly sticking to the series, to have the Alternate Universe end in a similar way, yet with some vast differences. _

_As for a sequel? Let us see how next year's series pans out. _

_I have been thinking of writing alternate-novels to fill the gap before the start of series 4 (such as Sting of the Zygons, Last Dodo – or at least, Made of Steel) but they will be a different story of course and not part of the Series 3 AU. We will see. _

_Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed during the course of this series. I hope you like how it ends :) it has been very fun to write._

* * *

"Phones are down." 

Rose winced and shook her head as she looked up, confused. "What?"

Jack Harkness was standing over her, holding out his mobile phone.

"Can't get a signal."

Rose took Jack's phone and stared at it blankly, wondering why it mattered. "Who you wanna call? Torchwood?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

Jack gave her a patient look, taking his mobile back. "No phone signal and no TV, Rose. We're cut off," he shook his phone at her importantly.

"So?" Rose stood, frustrated, wondering why Jack was harping on about it.

"It means that Martha did her job," Jack shrugged. "She shut down the signal."

Rose's heart skipped a beat and she slapped herself for not realising what Jack had been getting at. "Which means…" Rose trailed off, her eyes widening.

"That she'll be back any minute," Jack grinned, raising his eyebrows. "C'mon!"

Jack and Rose ran outside Martha's apartment, Rose slamming the door behind her in her haste.

Martha had done it. The world would no longer be hypnotised by the Master's sound of drums – now people would be able to think and start fighting back. And Martha would return soon, with (a small, optimistic part of her mind assured her) the Doctor.

The skies over London were grey, punctuated by the occasional movement in the clouds of what must have been Toclafane. She and Jack stayed in Martha's doorway, leaning either side of it, peering into the streets.

It was empty. No sounds, no people.

"Where is everyone?" Rose whispered to Jack.

"Probably in hiding," Jack pulled out his gun, loading it with a flick of the wrist and leaning back against the doorframe again. He flicked a glance over his shoulder into the streets. "She's not here yet, but when she arrives, the Toclafane will try to hone in on her. I'll provide the cover," he indicated his gun, "you get her inside, got it?" he asked Rose sternly.

Rose nodded, steeling herself, despite the fear rising in her throat. Could Toclafane be shot?

A faint, urgent beeping sounded from Jack's pocket and he pulled out his mobile.

"I thought we had no signal," Rose whispered.

"It's the vortex manipulator. Hooked it up so we'd know when it was in use," he explained hurriedly, pushing his mobile back into his pocket and flicking another look around the doorframe. "Here she comes," he grated.

As Rose turned her eyes back to the street, there was a grating sound and a small volume of space in the middle of the road temporarily turned in on itself, creating a sucking sound and glowing a dull yellow around the edges.

"Go!" Jack cried to Rose, and she jumped into action, leaping down the path, out the gate, and into the street, as Martha and her sister, Tish, appeared at the front of the fissure, gasping and holding onto one another.

No Doctor. Rose's heart dropped into her stomach as her legs continued to hurry forward on auto-pilot.

"Rose! You won't—" Martha noticed her and started hurriedly, trying to catch her breath.

"No time, c'mon!" Rose grabbed Martha's arm, dragging her back toward the apartment, as she heard gunfire from the direction of Jack, and looked behind her in time to see several of the small, metallic Toclafane soaring towards them.

The very disoriented Tish saw them too, and stopped, pointing to the sky with her mouth hanging open.

"Ladies, move it!" Jack screamed from the yard, firing the last of his shots as the Toclafane started sending out small, zapping laser beams.

Rose, hand still firm on Martha's arm, ducked and wove, stumbling back toward the apartment, wondering how getting inside would protect them.

"Martha, the teleporter!" Jack held out his hand, sidestepping the path and leaping over the fence to the girls.

Martha palmed the wrist-band into Jack's hands as they passed, and Rose shot him a questioning look, that remained unanswered, as Jack raced forward to meet the oncoming Toclafane.

Through the open gate, down the path. Rose and Martha pushed Tish inside, and Rose leaned against the doorframe, calling into the street.

"Jack! We're inside!"

"Close the door!" his command sounded over the sounds of the laser blasts, and Rose winced as she saw Jack jump behind a car parked on the side of the road to avoid one.

"Rose, c'mon!" Martha tugged on Rose's arm, stepping through.

"What about Jack?" Rose looked desperately between the two. Jack was crouched behind a smouldering car, urgently pressing buttons on his wrist-band.

"You heard him, he said get inside!" with another tug on Rose's arm, Martha had her inside, and slammed the door shut.

At that moment, a quiet, but resonant _BOOM_ shook the walls, making the doors and windows of Martha's apartment rattle. Rose steadied herself and raced back to the door, peering out the glass, dusting the plaster that had fallen from the ceiling off her.

"What happened?" Tish asked in a small voice from the stairs.

Rose couldn't see through the frosted glass, and cursed, torn between obeying Jack's orders, and hurrying back outside to help him.

"Jack must have done something," Martha raised her voice, trying to sound convincing. "Otherwise those borg-in-a-ball would be all over us by now," she tried to laugh it off, putting a hand on Rose's shoulder.

Martha's front door opened, and all three girls startled; Tish screaming a little.

"What is it?" Jack asked from the doorway, grinning, covered in soot, a non-moving Toclafane under each arm.

Rose threw her arms around his neck in relief.

* * *

Upstairs, Martha organised cold drinks, as the kettle appeared to be broken. 

Jack placed the Toclafane on Martha's desk, explaining he'd activated a small-range electro-magnetic pulse to stop them; unfortunately, her whole street would have been affected.

"Unfortunately?" Tish huffed uneasily. "You saved our lives. Who cares about the flippin' toaster?" her voice sounded shaky.

"Can I claim that on insurance?" Martha wondered sarcastically, winking at him as she handed him a glass of lemonade.

Jack laughed.

"I don't get it Jack," Rose frowned, also accepting a drink. "Why'd we have to get inside if it was jus' an EMP?"

Jack sobered a little, lowering the glass from his lips. "Because I didn't know if it would work," he explained, a hard edge to his voice. "I might have had to use something stronger, something you couldn't survive if you were out in the open."

"And being inside would have helped?" Martha asked, leaning against a wall.

"It doesn't matter," Jack held out his hands, to stop the questioning, then thumbed over his shoulder. "It did work, and I scored us a couple of Toclafane in the process. Now I should be able to figure out what they are."

He picked one of the balls up, scrutinising it, putting his wrist-band next to the other one, and pressing a couple of buttons.

Rose shuddered, turning away from the sight, expecting the Toclafane to spring back to life at any moment and unsheath it's array of tiny, hissing metallic weapons.

"What happened on the Valiant?" Rose asked Martha stiffly, leaning against the desk with her back turned away from the Toclafane. She wanted to ask why Martha had left the Doctor behind, but was unable to form any words that didn't sound like accusations.

Martha's mouth fell into a straight line, as she reached around her neck hesitantly, and withdrew the TARDIS key. She held it out to Rose.

"He was caught."

"We kinda gathered--" Jack started, but was silenced with an angry look from Martha.

"…How?" Rose took the key, staring at it, turning it in her fingers, wondering if it was real. Jack was right – she had guessed that the Doctor had been captured, but until Martha had confirmed it, there had always been a chance that they'd been separated, or the Doctor was still working on a plan and had sent them back with instructions.

But no. Caught. The Master had him. Rose put the key in her pocket, clenching her eyes shut and trying to focus.

Martha began to explain.

"When we arrived on the Valiant, we were in this corridor, and behind us was the TARDIS—"

"What?!" Rose exclaimed, her eyes shooting open.

Jack lowered the Toclafane in his hands for a moment to pay attention.

"Let me finish," Martha held up her hands.

Rose fidgeted with the cuffs of her jumper, then gripped the side of the desk to stop her fidgeting, as Martha opened her mouth to continue.

"It'll…have to wait," Jack cut her off, eyes back on the Toclafane, jabbing his finger into a couple of what Rose assumed were strategic places. "This baby's about ready to sing for us," he winced a little, then turned back to the desk, putting it down and with a dull hiss. The Toclafane cracked open like a blooming flower, giving birth to a horrific, mutated, disturbingly _humanoid_ face.

"What…the…_hell_?" Martha took a couple of steps toward it as Jack crouched down, prodding the face inside the ball with a finger.

The face_ giggled_, and everyone in the room, even Tish, across the other side of the apartment, jumped backward.

"That tickles," it opened its eyes and spoke in its strangely childlike voice.

"So will this," Jack murmured. Before anyone could react, he raised his gun and shot the Toclafane in the middle of its ugly face.

"What are you doing?!" Martha cried, pushing Jack's arm down, then crouching to the Toclafane.

Rose had startled backward a little at the gunfire and, when grabbing the desk again for support, her hands had closed around Jack's wrist-band. She stared down at it, blocking out Martha and Jack for a moment.

Martha had said they'd appeared next to the TARDIS. The TARDIS was on the Valiant. Rose ignored the obvious, niggling thought telling her that if it had been possible, the Doctor would have returned in the TARDIS by now.

If _she_ went up there, now, she'd be able get inside and…and…well, as silly as it sounded – save the Doctor. Fix the world and leave, just as they always had, before the year and a half of hell. The mere thought that travelling in the TARDIS again might be possible, after all this time, made Rose's heart sing and set ablaze a fire inside her, driving her forward. There was only one thing to do.

"It's dead," Martha huffed, half-shrugging. "Thanks a lot, Jack-y boy, we could have questioned it," she hit him in the arm.

Rose tore her eyes from the wrist-band, putting her hand behind her back, hoping he wouldn't immediately notice it was missing.

Jack's face was cold, his eyes lowered. "You wouldn't get anything out of that monster, trust me."

"Oh, of_ course_, you know everything about them," Martha threw her hands up. "You're in the dark as much as we are! So you can shove your gun up your—"

Rose took a couple of steps backwards into Martha's kitchen, and pressed the teleport button she'd seen Jack showing Martha. It was the small blue one.

The glow it created enveloped Rose as Jack and Martha turned, at the same time, shocked expressions on their faces.

"Rose, no!" Jack leaped toward her.

His form dissolved around Rose. Or, perhaps she was the one who dissolved. She couldn't tell. She closed her eyes, and thought of the Doctor.

* * *

When Rose opened her eyes, she was standing next to the TARDIS, at the end of a disused-looking corridor full of crates. 

She opened the door, unable to suppress her grin, her joy, at seeing the familiar blue box, unscathed—

The interior of the TARDIS was glowing red. The console was surrounded by a wire-mesh fence, and a bunch of cables were feeding into, and then out of, the centre.

Okay, not so unscathed. She took a couple of steps forward, reaching her hand out to the wire-mesh, wondering if it was an illusion, a defence mechanism, something – anything – that would mean the TARDIS was all right and this wasn't real.

Her hand met hot wires, and she drew it back swiftly.

It was real. And it was wrong. All wrong.

* * *

Rose pushed the TARDIS' mutilation into the dark, wound up recess of her mind that she had reserved for reasons to destroy the Master and moved on further into the body of the TARDIS. 

He had to be stopped, she told herself, again. She didn't know how to stop a Time Lord, and didn't care. But someone had to stop him. That someone would usually be the Doctor, but when he wasn't able to do anything, someone had to take his place.

Rose found the wardrobe, and closed her eyes, reaching her hand into the clothing and hoping for something inconspicuous.

When she withdrew her hand, she was holding a bright red, sequined waistcoat with four armholes.

"Sorry," Rose muttered to the TARDIS. "I know you're sick," she bit her bottom lip, putting the odd garment down and venturing back into the rows of clothing, eyes opened this time.

Some time later, dressed in an all-black kit and black beret, and hoping that she in some way resembled a Valiant guard, Rose stepped out of the TARDIS. Last addition – just for safety's sake – she slung the TARDIS key around her neck.

She started looking for the cells. If the Doctor had been caught, the Master may have put him there.

One brief wall-panel consult later along with a few moments of ducking into darkened corridors to avoid guards (though, the TARDIS key's perception filter seemed to be doing its job), she found the prisons that the Master had kept her in all those years.

She wanted to run screaming, but her legs kept moving her forward, one slow step at a time. Past the Perspex doors. A few empty cells. A few occupied by huddled, pale-looking people. Rose swallowed her revulsion as she moved past the cells, the bleary-eyed, blinking people inside them, repeating to herself that when she found – and freed – the Doctor, all these people would be as good as saved. She was not abandoning them to a lifetime of pointless imprisonment.

She was running out of cells, and began to wonder if there were more – perhaps on another floor?

_Where's the Doctor? _

Maybe the Master put him somewhere else?

Third last cell – man, in his forties, ginger, with a beard. Not the Doctor.

_Maybe…_

Second last cell – another man, this one younger, with black skin and short black hair. Not the Doctor.

_Maybe…he's already dead? Or regenerated? _

She hurried on. The last cell contained a woman, blonde, and Rose's heart sank. Definitely not the Doctor.

She leaned against the Perspex glass of the door to the woman's cell, and looked to the roof of the corridor. What now?

"'_oo d'you think you are, then, the cleanin' lady?" _

Rose's blood turned to ice.

"_Well, come on then, if you're going to unlock it, do it, bu' I don' know why you bother—"_

It…couldn't be.

"_If I've told 'im once, I've told 'im a thousand times, I don't know nothin', an' even if I did, I'd not tell him a peep o' it, you hear?"_

In slow motion, Rose turned one-eighty degrees, to face the occupant of the last cell…

…To face her _mother, _standing at the door, her finger on an intercom button inside the cell, a petulant look on her face, wearing familiar looking grey overalls. Only days ago, Rose had been wearing a pair just like them.

The look dissolved from Jackie Tyler's face immediately as her eyes widened in recognition, and mouth dropped open.

"…_mum_?" Rose whispered, her hand reaching out, and hitting the Perspex door.

She was thin, drawn, her hair a fuzzy, dry sheath pulled into a protesting, struggling blonde mess with dark roots.

"_What – are – you – __**doing**__ here?" _Jackie's voice hushed, crackling over the intercom. _"Get out o' here, now, before someone sees you, they're after __**you**__, you an' 'im, you know!"_

Rose shook her head, blinking profusely to stop tears that she barely felt, fumbling the side of the door for the intercom on her side.

"_An' don' you worry abou' me, I can handle this lot, you jus' run sweetheart--"_

"How?" Rose managed, cutting Jackie off. "How did you get here? How long have you _been_ here?"

"_Oh, ages, must be years," _Jackie said dismissively. _"Where's himself then?"_ Jackie craned her neck to try and see around Rose's shoulder. _"Keepin' 'im out of trouble? Don't know why I stick my neck out for 'im—,"_

Rose tried to focus, wiping her eyes quickly and re-pressing the intercom. Years? Her mother had been here, right here, a few cells down from her? Not in the Void, but _here_?

She needed answers. But, while she could try to keep asking her mother what had happened, how she had gotten out of the Void, she'd be wasting time – time she might regret not having later. The Doctor. 'Himself' was…somewhere else, most definitely not in the cells. Rose had to keep searching.

But not until her mother was safe. She had chosen between her mother, and the Doctor, what felt like years ago now, and had paid the price. She should not have to choose again. If she could save both, she could have both. She cleared her throat.

"Stand back, I'm lettin' you out," she spoke clearly into the intercom, then pointed Jack's wrist band at the key-pad on the side of the door, seeing if any buttons lit up. How did Jack undo deadlocks with it? He usually just pressed buttons frantically and the doors opened.

But which buttons? The wrong one, and she could set off an EMP, or something stronger, or start the radio, or…or teleport right back into Martha's apartment, and Jack would _never_ let her take off like this again—

Rose's head snapped back to her mother as the only plausible solution presented itself to her. Jackie Tyler was standing back from the door, her eyes still wide, her hands fiddling with the cuffs of the grey overalls.

Rose pressed the food chute on the door, and shoved Jack's wrist-band into it. The alcove snapped shut as soon as Rose withdrew her hand and she re-pressed the intercom.

"It's a teleport," she explained. "Press the blue button, and you'll go…you'll be somewhere safe, with some friends of mine."

Jackie hurried forward and took it, opening her mouth. Rose couldn't hear her but could tell what she was saying.

"Don't worry about me. I have another way out. Trust me," she lied.

Jackie's lips tightened, and Rose tried to smile, to force the innocence into her face. She'd never been any good at lying to her mum.

Jackie took a few steps forward and put her hand to the Perspex door.

Rose met her mother's hand with her own. Jackie mouthed 'I love you', and Rose nodded, a lump in her throat, yearning for the barrier to dissolve.

It didn't.

"Go," Rose ordered, letting her hand fall from the door, taking a couple of steps backward, to reinforce that she was leaving – and so should Jackie.

Jackie's frown didn't budge but her eyes wavered as she turned her gaze down, beholding the small, leather-braced wrist band, and pressed a button, in one movement.

Rose shielded her eyes as her mother dissolved in the dull yellow glow, and completely disappeared with it.

As she let out a sigh of relief she didn't realise she'd been holding, sirens started wailing, all around Rose.

She ran.

* * *

Rose risked a peek out of the service cabinet she'd jumped into. They were _still _everywhere – Valiant's guards - marching past her hiding place with blank looks on their faces. 

She stayed where she was, trying to figure out what to do next. She didn't quite trust the perception filter abilities of the TARDIS key; not at the level of roaming freely amongst quite a few guards without their taking notice, particularly now they were looking for someone.

Rose could only guess what had happened; her mother's cell had suddenly become empty. She'd been so taken back by her mother's appearance, she'd not thought about any security measures that might be in place, to try and stop prisoners from escaping.

The passage outside quietened of booted footfalls and Rose made her move. Back to the TARDIS. It was the only place she could think of that she might be able to move freely and come up with a better plan.

She peeked her head out of the cupboard, then scampered down the hallway. She'd moved perhaps three steps, turning a corner, when she was confronted by a sight that stopped her in her tracks.

The Master, in front of her, smirking. Leading the Doctor.

"Now why am I not surprised to find you here?" the Master mocked cheerfully.

Rose scudded to a halt. "Doctor!" Relief flooded through her at the sight of him, alive.

The Doctor's face was blank, almost sad, but Rose had no time to dwell on it as the Master took her arm in a firm grip. She did a double-take and turned her attention to his hand.

"Rosie, you came back, aren't you a good girl?" the he spoke in the voice of a parent talking to a young child, a voice Rose hated with a passion. "But, I can't have you coming and going as you please, now, can I? Where's the teleport?"

The teleport. Her mother. He'd kept her mother prisoner, _all this time_.

An anger boiled inside Rose's belly, and before she could stop herself, she had punched the Master in the nose with her free fist.

There wasn't much force behind it, but the shock of it must have gotten to him. He released his grip, just slightly enough, for Rose to break free. As she ran onward, leaving the Master to gape and hold his face, she grabbed the Doctor's hand.

"Run!"

At the moment her grip tightened on the Doctor's hand, he did the same, but he wasn't running. Rose was whipped back toward the Doctor.

He gritted his teeth, and slammed her against the hallway wall, his arm pressed along her collarbone, his hips locking hers in place.

"What are you _doin_'-?" Rose cried.

"You_ stupid_ ape," the Doctor cut her off, gritting his teeth, his eyes flashing and churning like a wild thunderstorm.

Rose felt all of the blood drain out of her face. She saw, in her peripheral, the Master turn, holding his cheek, grinning at them.

Most of her focus was on the Doctor's anger, the arm and hip that was pinning her to the wall.

Rose opened her mouth – to say what, she didn't know – but the Doctor cut in again.

"You think you are invincible?" the Doctor's tone had lowered, but there was still a sting in his words. His eyebrows were raised. "Think you can take a Time Lord?"

Rose continued to gape, but managed to speak. "What are you _talkin'_ about Doctor, it's me, it's _Rose_—"

"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth," the Master spoke sarcastically, waving his hands as though quaking in terror, then shook his head, laughing at his own joke.

Rose ignored him trying to see the truth in the Doctor's face. The fear she felt, staring him down, was overwhelming and she began to understand why alien races had called him the Oncoming Storm. She refused to break his gaze, as the adrenalin surged through her, blurring her vision with what she failed to realise at first were tears.

The Doctor broke the gaze first, turned to the Master, and laughed. It took Rose a moment to realise he was laughing _at_ _her_, at the Master's joke.

Rose shook her head, her eyes wide. This was someone who looked like the Doctor, but it was not her Doctor. He'd _never_ do this to her.

All she could think of at that moment – whether this Doctor's attitude was all part of a ploy or not – she needed to get away.

Conflicting anger, hurt and confusion driving her, Rose managed to move her right leg, raise her knee, and putting all her emotions into the movement, embedded it into the Doctor's groin.

The response was instant; the Doctor groaned and crumpled to the floor. Rose didn't wait to see him hit the deck; didn't stop to hear what the Master called out; didn't notice as bemused Valiant guards thought they saw her, reached out, then forgot about her; she just ran for the TARDIS.

* * *

She locked the door from the inside. As an afterthought, in case the Doctor another key, she broke the key off in the lock. She wasn't sure if it would stop a Time Lord from entering his TARDIS, or a sonic screwdriver for that matter, but it was the best she could do. 

_What_ had just happened? What was the Doctor doing? This had to be some sort of trick, or plan, that the Doctor had. There was no way he could have turned on her.

That morning, he had been on their side. He'd left with Martha Jones to stop the Master, and never come back. Last she'd seen of him, had been on tele, as he'd dashed forward in the board room, just as the signal had been cut.

What had happened between then, and now? Why were the Master and the Doctor suddenly friends?

She looked up to the glowing red console, for answers. The mutilation of her previous home seemed absolute. Rose couldn't hear the welcome hum she'd not realised she had grown accustomed to (until, of course, it was no longer there).

She leaned against one of the coral beams in the TARDIS, resisting the hopelessness of the situation. The Doctor lost – or not lost, just changed – to her. Or, he was up to something, and couldn't let her in on the plan.

There wasn't much she could do about that. She couldn't take the chance that the Doctor hadn't meant what he'd said to her. There were millions upon millions of people, down there on her home planet, who had no one else, at the moment. Her mum was down there, her _mum_, she repeated to herself – she'd thought she had lost her forever, and she was back. Anything was possible now.

Everyone relied on the Doctor, whether they knew it or not. And when the Doctor wasn't able to help, someone had to take his place. Just like when the Sycorax had attacked at Christmas all those years ago.

But the Doctor didn't look like he was going to wake up and come to the rescue this time.

It was more like the time on Satellite Five in two hundred, one hundred, she thought, with the Delta wave to end the Time Wars.

A thought occurred to her. Her mind raced, as she searched the wire-mesh fence around the centre console for some sort of opening.

When all else failed, when all hope seemed lost, the power of the time vortex had put things right. Oh, she knew the consequences of absorbing it now; if the Doctor hadn't taken it from her, it would have killed her. But she had lived long enough with that power to change the course of history. And it was all she could think of doing now.

She had to find the Heart of the TARDIS.

* * *

There was no way in. The wire was scalding hot, and the centre console, through the cables, was unrecognisable. Even if she could break through, there were no guarantees that she'd be able to get to the Heart of the TARDIS. Last time they'd needed a tow truck. 

There were small burns running down Rose's arms and fingers, when she had tried to ignore the pain and force her way through. The tingling on her skin had intensified into a painful, very distracting stinging. She walked blankly to the med lab, looking for something to take away the ache, so she could think clearly again.

"_You stupid ape!" _the Doctor sneered into her ear.

Rose startled as she reached the med lab, and turned, checking he wasn't there. No. She was alone.

The med lab glowed a much more welcoming green colour, and Rose immediately felt safer.

She began checking the cabinets for anything that eased burns, on the top shelf, but her fingers trailed over something else; something cold and metallic.

Frowning, she withdrew the object, and stared down at it.

A fob watch?

Still frowning, Rose turned the watch in her hands a couple of times. It wasn't the Doctor's fob watch; the Master had taken it from her, in the first few days. It couldn't have been the Master's, either. Could it be? She hadn't seen the watch in such a long time, she could barely remember what the symbols had looked like.

What did it matter? The Doctor was still a Time Lord, he hadn't hidden anything in a watch this time.

She was about to throw it across the room, and stopped herself, staring down at the small silver watch again. Chameleon arc. Rewrote biology. Could turn a Time Lord into a human. Well, the Doctor had set it to human at the time, he had said.

Did it work the other way around?

* * *

Rose stood on an overturned crate, full of her mother's old things, and jumped, grasping for the Chameleon arc, dangling from the roof of the console room. She got it on the second try, and pulled it down, stepping back onto the grating. 

She had no idea how it worked, but as usual, that didn't stop her. There were a hundred reasons why she shouldn't be meddling with it, from knowing that it could all go horribly wrong and she could die, to even if it did work, what would it change about the situation?

_Do you really think the Master and Doctor will listen to you if you're a Time Lord?_

These unhelpful little thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as Rose fumbled with the fob watch, clipping it onto the front arm of the device. She noticed a tiny dial above the place for the watch, and turned it from right to left, hoping it was useful.

The persistently unhelpful voice mocked her, asking what good a fob watch was going to do; what was it going to store? This was never going to work.

Rose closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and placed the Chameleon arc onto her head. There were two bolts, on protrusions just above her ears, that she tightened with shaking hands. Pressure began to build on her skull as she finished tightening the device, but she knew, from watching the Doctor use it, that there was worse pain to come.

She flicked a switch on the front of the arc, then gripped the side arms of the headpiece and braced herself as a humming noise filled the room. The humming wound up and turned into a soft, drilling sort of buzzing noise.

Her whole body was suddenly resonating in an instant of acute agony, and Rose screamed, as the world disintegrated around her and everything turned black.

* * *

She opened her eyes, and blinked a few times to clear the stars as an urgent entity queried her mind. 

Her head ached, and she groaned, pulling the Chameleon arc from her head and sitting up, wiping the sweat from her forehead. It was _hot _in here.

The inquiry bumped against her mind again, a little more urgently.

"I'm all righ'," she answered the TARDIS' wordless question, blindly feeling for, and taking the watch out of the front of the headpiece, almost by instinct. She turned the watch over in her palm. The Chameleon arc dangled on its cable a moment, forgotten, before retracting to the roof of the TARDIS.

The world swam into focus and a small part of her mind tingled as she read the Gallifreyan on the fob watch. She dimly wondered why she should be surprised that she could read it, putting it in her pocket and forgetting about it.

_You are Rose Tyler._

"_Of course I am,_" Rose smirked, answering telepathically and turning her head to regard the roof of the TARDIS with some humour.

Her face fell when she spotted the ruined console, and she leapt up, rushing forward.

"What have they _done_ to you!?" she cried aloud.

The TARDIS' answer was more emotion than words. Pain, sadness, torture, and an aching, seeping feeling.

"Stop powering it!" Rose cried, shuddering from her own feelings overlapping with the TARDIS' response and her own thoughts knitting what she was seeing and feeling together. Someone had been using the TARDIS' immense power to maintain a gaping hole between two active times. "Can't we…" she ducked around the wire-mesh, hissing as she was burnt, and stepping back. "Can't we shut it down?"

The TARDIS' answer was again emotion-based. The old girl prodded Rose's mind prompting her that there was something she was supposed to be doing.

Rose pointed her finger at the console. "All righ', I'm goin' out there, and whoever did this to you is going to answer for it."

Her hearts beat energetically as she extracted a broken key out of the TARDIS door with a laser spanner, and stepped out into a hallway. It was dark, but she could see movement; people – specifically, humans. Lots of humans, crouching down, holding guns, pointing them at her. Her welling rage at the TARDIS' condition quelled and was replaced, instantly, by curiousity.

She held up her hands, smiling. "All righ', it was me. I'm guilty. I ate the last doughnut."

Nobody commented at this, but she noticed a couple of the guards shift uncertainly.

"Let me jus' pop down to Tesco and buy us another batch?" she nodded and pointed one of her hands, still raised, to the right, as though the shop _was_ just around the corner.

Two of the guards stepped forward and took an arm each, leading Rose down the passage way.

"Offering a lift?" she asked conversationally. "How kind."

When they didn't answer, she shrugged and moved down the corridors with them. "Tough crowd."

* * *

She was being taken up. Rose had figured out she was on a ship; she could feel the rotation, almost orbit, of the craft they were on, so high in the sky. Not high enough to be in space, but high enough to be caught in Earth's own rotation. 

Worryingly, she began to recognise the ship, and this recognition, coupled with a conflicting _knowing_ that she'd never been here in her life, made Rose begin to realise that something was very wrong. She'd had her memory erased, at least of this place. That meant that she was probably expected, and, very likely, in trouble.

Finally she was brought to a pair of doors, and the marching guards either side of her stopped. One pressed a code into a keypad, and a seal was released as the doors parted.

Then she could _feel_ them. Two of them, two Time Lords. Their presence, resting at the back of her mind like a shadow. And so, this is why she was here. These two.

Rose stepped forward confidently, clapping. "Clever, boys. How did you do it? Perception filter?" she grinned, wondering if she was supposed to be joining them, or stopping them. "Couldn't detect a _peep_ out of you until the doors opened. Well done."

While Rose had been talking, and striding into the room, she had noticed, quite plainly, the reactions of the people in the room. There was a young, elvish looking Time Lord with short cropped hair, who had, quite unsurely, raised a laser screwdriver at her when she'd first entered, but now sported a somewhat amused expression.

"Oh, put it back in your pants," she scoffed finally, waving a hand at him.

He huffed a laugh, but the laser screwdriver stayed in his hand. "I _don't_ believe it."

And there was the other Time Lord; brown hair, widening brown eyes, brown suit, wincing, holding his head. A wave of awareness flooded Rose. She definitely knew this one, possibly intimately.

"So!" Rose raised her eyebrows brightly. "Got a bi' of a problem I think you can help me with," she stuck her hands into the pockets of the coat she was wearing. She'd have to do something about this appalling all-black outfit later, extremely unstylish, what _had_ she been thinking?

"I know that I know you," she told them flatly. "An' I know you know me. I know you know that you think I don't know who I am, and you know - you're righ'," she grinned.

"I wonder where she picked up the verbal diarrhoea from?" the elvish-one rolled his eyes, pointedly directing the comment to the other Time Lord.

The brown suited Time Lord didn't respond, just continued to stare, his eyes filling with tears, his mouth closed. He was very still, as though he was afraid to move or react.

Rose gave him a sideways glance, holding his gaze for a moment. His lack of response, and his body language, told her, loud and clear, he knew what was going on.

"Second problem," she turned back to the elvish one, since Rose knew he had a voice at least. "I woke up in a TARDIS," Rose gushed. "That I can only assume is mine, and _someone_ had butchered her an' is using her heart to power a paradox, _so complicated_," her voice began to harden, "that they've torn and are holding a hole open between this time and another. Why?" she asked honestly. "Nobody on this planet is capable of this technology. It was either you," she pointed to the elvish one, "or you," to the one in the brown suit, raising her eyebrows at the finish.

The elvish one let out a laugh, tucked the laser screwdriver back into his pocket and started descending the stairs at the front of the room. "Oh, this is better than Days of our Lives," he shook his head, his grin genuine as he approached Rose. "Drama, amnesia, the works - should we tell her now, Doctor, or let her think she has control for a little longer?"

Rose scrutinised him, the obvious attempts to intimidate her rolling off like water on a duck's back. Doctor, she repeated to herself. That was definitely familiar. The brown-suited one was called 'Doctor'.

She stared up at the arrogantly confident other Time Lord when he stopped in front of her, and smirked up at him. "And you are?" she prompted.

"What," the Time Lord ignored her, "did your puny mind possibly think it could achieve by doing this?" he looked her up and down. "Hmm?"

Rose laughed in his face. Oh, that felt familiar as well. Something was coming back to her, in bits and pieces. "Whatever I did," she swung around, holding out her arms, "it's obviously working. I'm alive and you're talking to me," she shrugged. "What was it, then? Regeneration? Did one of you try to kill me? How did I do, is it a good new body?"

"I don't_ believe_ this," the arrogant, elvish Time Lord repeated. He was grinning again, shaking his head, clearly amused. "Oh, let's keep her!" he waggled his eyebrows at the Doctor.

There was a darkness to his amusement that was starting to eat away at a pool of worry in Rose's mind. She turned to the other Time Lord to wash the concern away, and stepped toward him.

Vastly different to the other Time Lord, this Doctor still seemed quite afraid of her. His eyes flitted between Rose and the other Time Lord, fear written all over his face. Fear of what? Her? Or – she was beginning to suspect – did he fear the other Time Lord?

"Did it work?" she asked quietly, stopping a few steps in front of the Doctor. "Was it you?" she nodded to him. "Did you try to get rid of me?"

He finally spoke, his voice shaking with emotion and passion. "Never."

Rose winked at him, smiling sideways. "Didn't think it'd be you."

The Doctor spoke again, with disbelief, holding out his hands, indicating Rose. "…but…_how_?"

The other Time Lord groaned from across the room. "Ugh, you'll spoil all our fun," he barrelled over to the pair and put an arm around each shoulder, drawing them closer to him in a comradely way. "Now, my Time Lord companions, we shouldn't be quarrelling over inconsequential, bothersome things like _memories_. This is a_ good_ day."

He was leading them to a large window on the side of the room. "It has seen the return of the Doctor to his brethren, rather than associating with the common apes of this world, and," he grinned at Rose. "You, and your comical transformation. Come, both of you, and behold a new empire."

Rose let herself be led and they reached the window. Outside, she could see the Earth, parts of it in flame. Small, metal balls were zooming around the ship, and darting toward the surface in hives. Feelings of pain and horror were radiating in waves from the surface. Another cog of recognition turned in Rose's mind, as she felt an overwhelming connection, familiarity and responsibility for what was going on down there.

"…the Master," she muttered, remembering his name and shaking her head at the destruction.

Both Time Lords turned to her and she pointed to the world outside.

"I remember this. That must be why I'm here," she shrugged the Master's arm off her shoulder. They were both staring at her with questions all over their faces, but they waited for her to continue.

"I have to stop this lunatic from killin' all those people," she answered, as though it should have been obvious, pushing the Master's shoulder as she addressed the Doctor. "And I can see that you're with me."

The Master had been so focussed on Rose, that he hadn't noticed the Doctor, behind him, pulling the laser screwdriver from his pocket. The Doctor flicked a switch on it's body, and pointed it at the Master.

"All right," the Doctor spoke quietly, with finality, to the Master. "That's quite enough. Call the Toclafane off, and let's sort this mess out."

The Master, his full attention on the Doctor now, shook his head, a smile emerging. Rose calmed her breathing, watching for the shift of muscle, or any small movements, that might indicate the Master was going to run for it.

"What if I don't, Doctor? You wouldn't kill me," he huffed.

"I don't need to," the Doctor answered quietly.

The Master was still grinning, and Rose noticed it; his calf muscle tensing; a slight shift in his weight distribution. She hooked her arms around the Master's elbows, and held him in place. The Master immediately pulled free, as he was much stronger than Rose, but she had held him long enough. The Doctor had a hold of him before he could get away, and had pushed him back, so he was leaning against the massive window, the laser screwdriver angled directly onto his forehead.

The Doctor gritted his teeth. "I do not want to kill you--"

_There was a warm, golden glow behind Rose. _

"You might not have a choice," the Master gave him a wild-eyed look full of chaos, that sent chills down Rose's spine. Why was he so desperate to cause trouble with them? Wasn't he one of them?

_Click-click._

"Yes he does," another voice - again, one familiar to Rose that she couldn't quite place - spoke up, stepping out from behind Rose to stand between her and the Doctor, facing the Master, pointing a gun at him. "He might not want to kill you. I do."

"Jack, you can't," the Doctor whispered through the side of his mouth.

"Ah, magic Jack," the Master grinned.

_Of course, Jack. How could I forget? He...well, I know I know him. Somehow._

"And his uncouth vortex manipulation device. You--"

"Can it," Jack grated, stepping forward and taking the Master's arms with little resistance, clipping them in place with something he took from his coat, that looked like a cable-tie.

"Call off the Toclafane," the Doctor ordered, lowering the laser spanner, now that Jack appeared to have the Master under control.

"And restore my TARDIS," Rose cut in.

"Or what?" the Master's voice was icy. "I don't have to listen to any of you! You," he nodded to Jack, "a freak of nature who parades about as a playboy human, or you," he nodded to the Doctor, "a Time Lord who destroyed all of Gallifrey, issuing _orders,_and I _really _don't have to listen to you," he gave Rose a scathing look, "- nothing but a damn dirty ape who--"

The Doctor stepped forward swiftly, with a frown, and pressed his hand to a few points on the Master's neck, the laser spanner buzzing briefly. The Master's sneer dissolved and he crumpled to the ground.

"That's enough. Sleep," the Doctor told the unconscious body slumping onto the floor. "Definitely not enough sleep, that one," the Doctor said brightly to Jack, giving him a smile that made Rose's hearts flutter a little, from where she was standing. He nodded to the Master. "Made him quite grumpy, didn't it?"

Jack wasn't listening, and hurried to a panel in the middle of the room. He started pressing buttons on it, occasionally looking to a leather wrist-band for confirmation.

"Toclafane...offline," he muttered, then breathed a sigh of relief, grinning back at them. "Just have to clean up the TARDIS, and close their access off for good."

Rose barely heard him, walking forward a couple of steps and crouching down. "What're we doin' with him now?" Rose stared into the Master's now peaceful face. Out cold. He looked quite pathetic, really.

The Doctor sighed. "I'll sort him out. He's my responsibility. Always was, and I had everything under control, until _you two_ thundered in after me--" there was reprimand in his voice, but Rose could hear him smiling behind it.

Rose opened her mouth to respond but Jack cut in.

"I couldn't stop her, what was I supposed to do?! She took off with the teleport, and the next thing I know, Jackie Tyler's landing in my lap, sobbing about Rose—"

"Wait, sorry – what? Jackie – THE Jackie Tyler?" the Doctor thundered, then beamed, at Rose. "She's alive? She was _here?" _

Rose shrugged, standing and turning back to the Doctor, again only distantly recognising the name. Jackie Tyler. Same name as hers. A relation, then?

"Apparently so?" she grinned to the Doctor, rubbing her neck a little nervously, wishing someone would explain something – anything - and at least fill in some of these smaller gaps.

It was at that moment, that Rose saw a change in the Doctor's face. As though he was really noticing her, really seeing her, for the first time. His eyes – his whole face – softened, and with a huge grin he strode toward her, and without hesitation planted his lips onto hers, catching Rose completely by surprise. His hands were at the back of her neck, pulling her forward, deeper into the kiss and she stumbled forward, her hands catching fists of his coat.

Rose was dimly aware of Jack saying something, something that sounded quite dirty, but the words bounced off her mind as she focussed on the Doctor, overwhelmed by the joy and surprise, pride, urgency and wonder driving his actions. He was feeling _all of this_ for her?

She found her feet and kissed him back, tentatively reaching her mind out to him to deepen the connection, then laughing when he startled and broke the kiss.

The Doctor's hands remained on the back of her neck, and he ducked down to her level, scrutinising her, eye-to-eye. His eyes were shining with unsated passion, but his smile had dropped into sharp concern. Rose tried to regain control of her breathing.

"I had forgotten," he muttered, suddenly plunging his hand into Rose's pockets.

"What – what are you--?"

"Ah – ha!" the Doctor retrieved a small, silver fob watch from her pocket and waggled it at her knowingly, then threw it up and caught it, like it was a cricket ball.

"I don' get it," Rose shook her head, a grin emerging as she tried to stop herself from laughing again.

Jack cut in from across the room at the panel. "She didn't?" he turned to face Rose fully. "You didn't!?"

"...I might have--?" she guessed.

"She did!" the Doctor cried quickly, holding the watch up with triumph. Rose stared up at it, crossing her brows, as he continued. "It was dangerous, could have killed her, and really, is possibly the worst conceived plan in the history of the universe--"

"_Hey!_ Whatever it was, it worked, didn' it?"

"-- Oh yes! It _worked_, Rose," he smiled at her again, his radiating pride embarrassing her. "A real team effort," the Doctor quipped. "Team TARDIS," he laughed at his own joke, tucking the fob watch into his pocket.

As the image of the watch fled from her mind, Rose's own grin sank as she remembered the TARDIS. She gave the Doctor a pained look.

"I have to go to her," Rose shook her head, moving toward the exit.

The Doctor's hand fell onto her arm as she walked past, gently stopping her.

"We'll all go," he said simply, then nodded to Jack.

* * *

Rose and the Doctor hurried back down to the TARDIS. Jack followed, carrying the limp body of the unconscious Master over his shoulder. The Doctor had explained that they'd have to keep the Master in the TARDIS for a while, until they had repaired her, and then figure out what to do with him. 

Confused-looking guards tried – and failed – to stop them. Rose heard Jack pause behind them, commanding some of the guards to head to the surface and help clean things up. For some reason, they were listening to him.

Rose left the guards and Jack to each other, and continued onward, her mind on fixing the TARDIS and sealing the great gaping hole between times. The Doctor strode beside her.

"She's fixable, you know," the Doctor said suddenly.

Rose gave him a sideways look. "Of course she is," they turned a corner, and she nodded to the TARDIS doors, now visible at the end of the corridor. "But we'd better get started. It should be easier with the both of us on the job."

She could sense the Doctor wanted to say something else, but was holding back. There was an annoying, twinging voice at the back of her mind that demanded she investigate this hesitance, but she quietened it as the Doctor opened the TARDIS' doors, and they both stepped into the red glow.

Whatever he had on his mind would have to wait.

* * *

Hours later, and the TARDIS was coasting in the vortex. 

Rose was hanging upside-down from the floor grates of the TARDIS, and had been under this particular grate for what felt like eons – but very peaceful, methodical...all right, downright _boring_ but essential eons - unclipping the bad connections and rewiring, sonicing, and generally soothing a part of the rotor. It was hard work, making her brain ache at times, and even though she didn't always know what she was doing, her hands and the helpful hum in her mind guided her.

The Doctor, and Jack, had been on similar, silent tasks around the TARDIS, since they'd dematerialised from the Valiant. In true time traveller fashion, they'd sealed the Master in an armoured med-lab to be dealt with later, fixed the TARDIS and left, letting the Earthlings clean up the Earth.

She hummed a tune she didn't really know, as she worked, content to be bored but busy. Being busy silenced the gaping holes of lost memories, that she was beginning to wonder if she needed to find out about now that everything was okay again.

She felt the Doctor's approach, before she heard the footfalls on the steel grating.

"Cup of tea?" he called down to her brightly.

Rose smiled and ducked her head out from under the panel, swooping her hair out of her face and sitting up, cross-legged on the floor.

"Wonderful," she accepted the mug he held gratefully, taking a sip. "Jus' what I needed."

The Doctor stood there for a moment, and Rose could again feel the hesitance in him. She looked up at him, over the top of the mug, and waited.

He sat, suddenly, also crossing his legs, across from her.

Rose still waited.

His eyes rose to meet her expectant gaze, and he held it, opening his mouth but taking an eternity to speak.

"You're...not a Time Lord, Rose."

The nerves that had been building in Rose fled and she raised her eyebrows at him, blinking slowly. "Of course not, I'm a Slitheen. See, this zipper on my forehead--" she put a hand up, then peered upward, frowning. "Hang on, I could have sworn..." she muttered, letting her hand drop and pushing him on the shoulder playfully. "Very funny."

He didn't crack a smile, and Rose crossed her brows.

"Those memories, the ones that keep slipping away before you grasp them?" the Doctor half-asked, half-confirmed.

Rose nodded slowly, taking another sip of tea.

He looked a little torn, Rose had to admit. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it in a motion Rose found exceedingly familiar and tender.

"Your mother will be desperate to see you, but before we go to her, you_have_ to _know_, you can't see her like this," he said through gritted teeth, as though convincing himself to say whatever it was he was trying to say.

"...Like what?"

The Doctor gave her a sympathetic look. "You're--"

_CRASH!_

The TARDIS was rocketed sideways and both Rose and the Doctor were thrown doubly sideways as everything shook. All of the lights flashed off then on, and the dull, usually pleasant humming in Rose's mind expressed an emotionally-driven, somewhat angry question.

Rose scrambled to her feet, catching a siderail and hanging on as the TARDIS bucked and a tearing, grating sound ripped through the console room.

The source of the sound was immediately evident. The bow of a ship had crashed through the top of the TARDIS.

Rose gaped. She was dimly aware of Jack Harkness, entering the room lifting a welding mask from his face.

"How did that happen?" he pointed, his voice edged with an almost whining annoyance, as though a ship crashing into a TARDIS was a minor thing.

A lifebelt fell from the ship, labelled 'TITANIC', and landed at the Doctor's feet.

He picked it up, eyes widening, then looked to the bow, almost squinting.

"What?!"

* * *

_...To be continued, in Voyage of the Damned...eventually!_

* * *


	16. Time Crash

Hello! Yes, it's been a while. Thank you for all the messages and emails asking if I was going to continue an Alternate Universe for series 4!

After hearing that Rose was returning, I had put away the idea of continuing – there wasn't really a need - however after some reading and thinking, I might be able to make it still work ;) and it was too fun not to continue.

Here we have an alternate Time Crash. I've tagged it to the end of the (completed) Alternate Universe for series three to highlight that it won't make any sense unless you've read the previous chapters.

Let me know what you think – it was quite difficult in the end!

* * *

"_You're...not a Time Lord, Rose."_

_The nerves that had been building in Rose fled and she raised her eyebrows at him, blinking slowly. "Of course not, I'm a Slitheen. See, this zipper on my forehead--" she put a hand up, then peered upward, frowning. "Hang on, I could have sworn..." she muttered, letting her hand drop and pushing him on the shoulder playfully. "Very funny."_

_He didn't crack a smile, and Rose crossed her brows._

"_Those memories, the ones that keep slipping away before you grasp them?" the Doctor half-asked, half-confirmed._

_Rose nodded slowly, taking another sip of tea._

_He looked a little torn, Rose had to admit. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it in a motion Rose found exceedingly familiar and tender._

"_Your mother will be desperate to see you, but before we go to her, you have to know, you can't see her like this," he said through gritted teeth, as though convincing himself to say whatever it was he was trying to say._

"_...Like what?"_

_The Doctor gave her a sympathetic look. "You're--"_

_CRASH!_

* * *

The Doctor's head snapped to the centre console, his brows still crossed.

"Ah! Stop it! What was all that about, eh? Eh?" he called out, holding his hands up, dashing away.

"What the hell was that?!" Jack entered the room, lifting a welding mask from his face, addressing the sparking, whirring vortex.

Rose barely noticed him as she dashed to the Doctor's side, leaning over the controls and typing furiously to keep the Zeiton crystals from burning out, though she had no idea how she knew to do that.

"What's your problem?" she muttered, to herself, and the TARDIS, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes, before letting her hands and mind take over again and lead her.

A whiteish figure glanced past Rose's field of view as the Doctor pushed past her in the other direction. She looked over her shoulder, frowning. What, was she seeing ghosts, now?

"What'd you do, forget the shields again?" Jack called over the steadying hum.

"Right, just settle down!" another someone called out.

"And who exactly _are_ you?" Jack called out.

"Oh, excuse me," the Doctor kept moving, dodging the same, white figure again.

"So sorry," the other spoke hurriedly.

A prickling sensation crept up Rose's neck. She turned quickly, grabbing hold of the TARDIS console in the sudden movement, making the Doctor, Jack and – yes – another person – startle.

It was then that the Doctor also noticed a white-and-tan clad newcomer.

"What?!" the Doctor sounded somewhere between confusion, and delight, almost laughing in the alarmed sound that burst out of him.

"What?" the newcomer was sharp in his echo.

Rose stared. He was a man, in his 50's, wearing a tan jacket, white cricket vest, bowler hat and...

Her eyes were drawn to his lapel. Yes. A piece of celery.

While Rose had been taking in his appearance, the Doctor had stepped forward, grinning.

"Who are you?" the newcomer demanded.

"Oh, _brilliant_," the Doctor was laughing, grinning at Rose and Jack, and then turning back to the new addition to the TARDIS' control room. "I mean, _totally _wrong," he held up his hands, "big emergency, the universe goes bang in five minutes, but, _brilliant_."

The tan jacketed man was flustered as he stated, "I'm the Doctor. Who are you?" he demanded, waving his hands at all three of them.

Rose turned her head slightly to the left and flashed a look at Jack. Jack shrugged, the corner of his mouth rising slightly in amusement as he moved around the console to stand next to her and watch.

"Did you do this?" he muttered to Rose.

Rose smirked and shrugged. Of course _she_ hadn't. Had she? Full of surprises, today.

The Doctor was completely distracted by this new man, who also called himself the Doctor. "Yes, you are. You _are_ the Doctor," the Doctor continued grinning, shaking his head in wonder.

Rose covered her mouth, trying to mask a laugh as a cough.

"_Yes_, I am the Doctor," the other Doctor was scandalised.

Their Doctor just kept grinning. "Oh, good for you, Doctor. Good for brilliant old you."

"Is there something _wrong_ with you?"

At this, Jack started laughing, and the Doctor flashed them a look, waving in their direction for him to pipe down.

"I see," the other Doctor frowned. "Yes, clearly, there's something wrong with _all_ of you."

"Ooh, there it goes," the Doctor pointed to the other Doctor, grinning at Rose. "The frowny face! I remember that one!"

Rose put her palm to her forehead, wincing, trying to stop the laughter from rising. She needed to maintain _some_ control here. "Doctor, I don't think making fun of him will--"

"Making fun?" the Doctor scoffed. "Never! I mean," he waggled his finger at Rose and Jack, then waved the same hand at the other Doctor, and sighed. "a bit saggier than I ought to be. Hair's a bit greyer. That's 'cause of me, though," he told Rose and Jack, knowingly. "Two of us together has shorted out the time differential."

"You're telling me that you," Jack cut in, "used to parade about with a decorative vegetable on your coat--?"

Rose laughed now, wondering where the uncontrolable impulses were coming from. It was quite rude. "You're certainly braver than I gave you credit for," she managed, stifling herself.

"No, no no no, but it's for a very good reason," he babbled quickly, then turned back to the other Doctor. "Anyway, should all snap back into place when we get you home--" he nodded to his other self.

"Shut up," the other Doctor said clearly. "There is something _very_ wrong with my TARDIS and I've got to do something about it very, very quickly," he marched back toward the controls. "And it would help, it really would help, if there wasn't some skinny idiot, daft blondie, and brainless buffoon," he waved his hand at Jack on the last, "ranting in my face like smug morons about every single thing that happens to be in front of them like it's a tremendous joke!"

At his 'my TARDIS' remark, Rose somewhat tuned out. So, that was that, then. She had been wondering how a previous Doctor could arrive in _her_ TARDIS. But he settled the matter. She was in _his _TARDIS. She frowned. Then why did she, the TARDIS, feel so familiar? Did they always travel together like this? Was she about to bump into a previous regeneration of herself, she wondered in glee?

Jack looked affronted at the 'buffoon' remark, and held a finger up before opening his mouth, but the Doctor held him back, a hand on his chest.

"Okay, okay. We're sorry. Aren't we?"

Jack, taking his cues from the Doctor like a pro, nodded slowly and tried for serious and sober. "Sorry, Doctor."

"Thank you," he turned back to the console.

"Oh, look, the back of my head!" the Doctor pointed excitedly.

The serious and sober spell was broken.

"Hat looks to be covering one hell of a bald-" Jack began teasing.

"What?" the other Doctor turned back furiously.

The Doctor - that was - the older Doctor – that was – Rose's Doctor – continued to babble about his head, his appearance, mentioned the celery again. He just went on and on.

Rose didn't feel like laughing any more, realising that any alternate regenerations of herself would _not_ be showing up, being forced to remember what the Doctor had started telling her before this new Doctor had appeared; that she wasn't a Time Lord.

She hit the Doctor in the chest eventually to shut him up, whispering "Doctor, that's enough," from the corner of her mouth.

At that moment, the other Doctor put on a pair of glasses.

"Oh, oh, and out they come, the brainy--!" the Doctor grinned.

_Thwack! "_I _said_, enough."

"We should leave these two alone," Jack grabbed Rose's elbow and made to move away.

"No, no no, see the thing is," the Doctor turned back to them, all smiles, "He doesn't even need them," he turned back to the other Doctor, "you just think they make you look a bit clever."

"What, like yours?" Jack jibed.

The Doctor moved to open his mouth, and issued a long, high-pitched whining sound. It took Rose a moment to realise that it was the TARDIS' alarm and not the Doctor. The sound engulfed the control room.

The other Doctor was on it and Rose pushed past him. Her TARDIS or not, she wasn't going to let muggins babble them into oblivion when she could stop it.

"Level five alert," Rose announced, looking up and nodding to Jack.

"I'm on it," Jack raced around the console to the thermal buffers.

The other Doctor looked quite taken back by their actions, and pulled his specs off. "It's like two TARDISes have merged," he exclaimed. "But there's definitely only one TARDIS present. It's like two time zones at war in the heart of the TARDIS. That's a paradox." he faced the Doctor.

The Doctor was watching Rose and Jack, with one eyebrow raised, as though he had frozen in time, then tilted the monitor towards him.

The other Doctor continued. "It could blow a hole in the space time continuum the size of..."

He trailed off, thinking.

"Belgium," the Doctor finished, deadpan.

"Doctor, I'll go the Helmic regulator, you get on those Zeiton crystals, all righ'?" Rose asked, pushing past the two Doctors to continue around the console.

"Right," both Doctors snapped out of their reveries at the same moment, and both went for the Zeiton crystal controls.

Rose smirked as the other Doctor looked, aghast, to their Doctor. Their Doctor grinned at the younger version of himself, then held his hand forward. "After you."

The other Doctor, eyebrows crossed in concern, turned over the controls, then immediately turned back, exasperation in his voice.

"Just who are you?" he demanded.

Jack groaned. "Any time now, guys?"

"P'rhaps before this hole the size of Belgium disrupts the continuum, permanently?" Rose fired.

"Take a look," the Doctor talked to himself, calmly, nodding.

The other Doctor stared at his older self a moment, then shook his head, in horror. "Oh, oh no."

"Oh, yes!" their Doctor grinned happily.

The other Doctor pointed a finger at him. "You're . . . oh no."

"Here it comes," he told Rose and Jack, in his 'I'm so clever' voice. "Yeah, yeah, I am."

"A _fan," _the other Doctor spat.

"Yeah-" their Doctor did a double take. "What?"

Rose pushed past the other Doctor and took over the controls she'd asked them – one of them – to take care of. She heard Jack laughing from his holding spot at the buffers.

"Out of the way, you two. We're up to level ten," she grumbled.

The Doctor continued behind Rose, taking no notice that they were two minutes 'til Belgium.

"What do you mean, a fan? I'm not just a fan, I'm you!" he insisted.

"Okay, you're my biggest fan," the other Doctor waved his hand, nodded at Rose. "Right, that's under control, I'll go vent--"

"Listen to me," the Doctor turned himself around to face him. "I'm you. I'm you with a new face. Check out this bone structure, Doctor, 'cause one day you're gonna be shaving it."

Before the other Doctor could respond, a bell tolled.

"The cloister bell!" the other Doctor announced.

"'xactly!" Rose called over the console. "So shut it, the pair of you, an' someone, please, deal with the Helmic regulator before the end of the universe!"

"Which will be in less than a minute, if my calculations are correct," the other Doctor didn't seem all that worried – more dazed.

"Yeah, that's my fault actually," their Doctor confessed. "We were rebuilding the TARDIS, and I forgot to put the shields back up."

"Yes, thank you, impending black hole any minute now!" Rose tried again.

The Doctor had to continue explaining. Impending disaster warning or not, stopping him was like trying to knock down a skyscraper with a dead fish.

"Your TARDIS and my TARDIS--well, the same TARDIS actually, different points in the same time stream--collided, and oops! There you go, end of the universe, butterfingers!"

He scooted around the console, _finally_ flooring the Helmic regulator.

"We're too late!" Jack called out, as the world turned white.

When the glow faded, Rose slowly opened her eyes, wondering if she would see anything – or worse – black nothing. She sighed a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and patted herself down, seeing nothing more than the TARDIS console, Jack, also looking relieved, and the two Doctors, grinning at one another.

"Supernova and black hole at the exact same instant," the other Doctor marvelled.

"The explosion cancels out the implosion," their Doctor shrugged smugly.

Jack clapped his hands together. "Right, so, matter remains constant, TARDIS keeps flying, universe is saved again. Are we good?" he grinned at Rose.

She couldn't help return it. "We're good," she shook her head, collapsing into the seat by the console. She shouldn't have felt so _tired _all of a sudden_. _

The other Doctor and Rose's Doctor talked over the top of one another for a moment longer, muttering about times past, people Rose didn't know, and general wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff.

Rose tuned out, yet again, even when Jack joined her on the seat, leaning his head back and laughing at the pair's antics.

She didn't know any of the people he was talking about. Nyssa, Tegan, Mara? The Master, she recognised, and the Cybermen – though couldn't pinpoint the exact reason she knew the latter.

Rose bit her thumbnail out of nervousness, and stared up at the two Doctors, just as the other started turning transparent.

"Oh, I seem to be off," he pipped cheerfully. "What can I say? Thank you, Doctor."

"'Cause, you know, we did nothing," Jack nudged Rose in the side, laughing again.

Rose sniffed and nodded, distracted, to Jack.

The Doctors said their goodbyes. Jack saluted; Rose waved, briefly, a pit of worry settling in her stomach, her hearts racing.

"To days to come," the other Doctor said fainly. "Oh," he added hurriedly. "Doctor, remember to put your shields up this time!"

And he was gone.

In that moment, Rose stood, her hands beside her sides, and stopped the Doctor as he turned back to them.

"Oh!" the Doctor startled, nearly bumping into Rose, his grin wide. "Wasn't that lucky!"

Rose's face stayed worried. "Doctor. It's time you told me--"

_CRASH!_

The TARDIS rocketed sideways and Rose and the Doctor were thrown doubly sideways as everything shook, Jack grabbing onto the back railing behind the seat he was on. All of the lights flashed off then on, and the dull, usually pleasant humming in Rose's mind expressed '_?!_' somewhat angrily.

Rose scrambled to her feet, catching another siderail and hanging on as the TARDIS bucked and a tearing, grating sound ripped through the console room.

The source of the sound was immediately evident. The bow of a ship had crashed through the top of the TARDIS.

Rose gaped.

"Don't tell me, you forgot to raise shields again!" Jack pointed, his voice edged with an almost whining annoyance, as though a ship crashing into a TARDIS was a minor thing.

A lifebelt fell from the ship, labelled 'TITANIC', and landed at the Doctor's feet.

He picked it up, eyes widening, then looked to the bow, almost squinting.

"What?!"

* * *

_To be continued in Voyage of the Damned, eventually! _


End file.
